


Astra Renascentiae

by hydrostatic_equilibrium



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Is A Literal Mess, Eventual Romance, Friendship/Love, Like really slow, M/M, Obi-Wan Is Oblivious AF, Slow Burn, That's Not How The Force Works, This Is My First Fic IDK What I'm Doing, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 28,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrostatic_equilibrium/pseuds/hydrostatic_equilibrium
Summary: Anakin Skywalker couldn't even manage to die correctly.Well at least he was given a chance to do it all over again.  Hopefully this time he can stop the galaxy from burning, and maybe, just maybe not become a psychopathic Sith Lord.
Relationships: (past)Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 399
Kudos: 646





	1. There is no Death, there is The Force

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on AO3 for almost ten years and I never even remotely imagined that I would be posting anything. Quarantine makes us all do weird things though, so here we are. I wasn't planning on posting this until it was done, but somehow I have managed to write over 10,000 words which is insane for an illiterate STEM major. This is not even remotely done and at this rate it's turning into an absolute monstrosity, so who knows what's gonna happen. I'm posting the first twelve chapters and just going to see how that goes. To anyone actually reading this, you matter and your health matters, so stay safe :)

It was ironic, he thought, that after twenty years at the height of power, he had felt nothing but agonizing turmoil. Entrapped in his own darkness, condemned to act as a ruthless executioner for the Emperor, Vader was a shell of the man he had been, the man he  _ could have  _ been. Vader realized this in self pity; he was a slave as he had always been. Slave to Watto, slave to his darkness, slave to the Emperor.

The only time he had truly been free, was his time as a Jedi. Sure the Jedi were not perfect, he had felt suffocated by the code and the propriety, but he had gained something through them: Free will.

In his soul Vader was a good man, stained with darkness perhaps, but darkness born of the greatest intentions. His faults were only that he cared and he trusted --  _ he loved _ . He loved his son, he loved his daughter, he loved his wife, he even loved the Jedi.

The Jedi had given him a future, a bright one, and he had squandered it. The Jedi had taught him how to be good. The unyielding structure of the Jedi Order was erected out of a need for good, a void in the galaxy that ached to be filled. It was intriguing how the inescapable surety of his own death had given him clarity. The Jedi were not evil, the Emperor was evil. He could see it now, upon the death of his former Sith master and the eve of his own demise. For the first time in years the force was clear, crystal. 

Vader felt trapped, unapologetic and uncontrollable remorse flowed through him. He wanted it to end, he  _ needed  _ it to end. He was too weak to process his own sins, let alone atone for them. He gazed through the crimson haze of his mask waiting to become one with the force. A voice jerked him from his wistfulness. Luke, his son. Vader couldn’t interpret his words, they felt far away as if transmitted through water.

Vader slowly pulled himself to awareness and weakly stated, “Luke, help me take this mask off.” He could no longer bear it. He wanted to die with more dignity than he deserved, free of his durasteel prison. He would never make up for his actions, but he wanted his son to know that he had achieved this clarity, this  _ light _ . He needed Luke to know that in the very end, Vader understood.

“But you’ll die” Luke cried out, in denial.

“Nothing can stop that now. Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes.” Luke hesitantly removed the mask. Vader knew what he must look like, marled, disfigured, broken. Luke did not even flinch.

Luke was stunning, he couldn’t fathom that such a terrible kriff up like himself had managed to produce someone so pure and light. Soft suns-bleached blond hair, kind cerulean eyes, and the brightest force signature he had ever seen. He knew in his heart at that moment that even though he had destroyed the galaxy, his son would fix it. Luke was the good, Vader was the evil; Together, the Skywalker boys brought balance. Luke was still looking over him, but Vader knew his time was short, he didn’t want his son to witness him die, Luke had seen too many deaths already in his short life.

“Now go my son. Leave me.” He stated with a sad finality.

“No, you’re coming with me. I won’t leave you here. I’ve got to save you.” Luke argued. 

Vader sighed and with a melancholy yet at peace voice he stated: “You already have Luke. You were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister, you were right.” And with that Vader drifted out of consciousness. He closed his eyes for a final time, they were a powerful and beautiful pure blue. Vader’s last thought was “There is no Death, there is the Force.”


	2. King's Cross

As the force left his body, Darth Vader saw light. It was an all encompassing warmth, it promised him love and support. He laughed to himself and wondered how he had ever strayed away from its beauty and into the depths of the darkness. The dark side had only caused him pain, pain and excruciating suffering. Every nerve alight in agony, every movement a stab of a hot iron; yet all of this paled in comparison to wielding the darkness, every time he touched the dark it slashed his soul, the very fibre of his being, battered and bloody, irreparable. He was a slave to its whims; even his master, the Emperor, was not immune to its chains. No one could  _ ever _ control the darkness, all it did was destroy. 

He waited patiently to fade into the force, yet the light became clearer, crisper. He realized that it was not the force itself, but a force presence, softening the pain of death and carefully cradling him forward. Suddenly, he heard a voice. 

“Anakin, I am very proud of you. I know this was not easy for you, it is utterly inconceivable to return to the light after one’s fall, yet somehow you have managed.” A crisp Coruscanti accent announced. Vader was shocked, he knew that voice from another life, a past life, a happier life as a Jedi. That was the voice of his once good friend. That was the voice of a man he had killed. It could only be Obi-Wan Kenobi, the one whose soul was closest to his own before his fall, their connection in the force eternal. Vader was at loss for how to respond, he looked around frantically trying to find Obi-Wan, but all he saw was blinding light. 

“Obi-Wan?” he questioned. Confusedly he continued, “Obi-Wan, how could you say that. I  _ killed you, _ I destroyed the Jedi, kriff I destroyed the whole galaxy! I don’t deserve forgiveness, I don’t deserve anything. I should rot in the Force until the Force itself dies! Anakin Skywalker is dead, I stopped deserving that title when I pledged my life to the Sith.” Vader said with utter honesty, he had never been able to lie to Obi-Wan. 

“ _ Anakin _ ” Obi-Wan said pointedly, enunciating every syllable with purpose, “I am not condoning what you did, you made utterly senseless choices out of fear and selfishness. But even under the influence of the most powerful Sith Lord in generations, you returned to the light. Your return to the light  _ balanced the Force.  _ For that feat you do deserve praise, you are not defined by your past but by your here and your now. And in your now, you are of the light.” Obi-Wan said patiently.

“What good is that, I’m dead. I can’t change what happened, I can’t even see you, how do I know this isn’t all in my head?” Said Vader, his resolve crumbling. 

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Anakin, but why by the galaxy should that mean that this is not real.” Obi-Wan stated simply, as a fact.

Suddenly in a burst of light a run-down speeder appeared next to Vader. The afterlife is confusing, he thought. Yet the Force urged him to move forward, taking the grip of the handles and starting the engine, he followed its whim.

As Vader drove he started to see things, a landscape of sand dunes to his dismay. As the hours moved forward, it became increasingly clear that he had returned to Tatooine. The final sun began to set when he saw it, a humble homestead in the Jundland Wastes. The force nudged him. He paused knowing where he must go.

Crossing the threshold he hazily realized two things. First, he was no longer in his suit, he had four working, functioning limbs, and he donned a set of tan Jedi robes. He set that fact aside, it unsettled him but he had seen and heard weirder today. Dwelling on the hows and whys would do him no good. The second realization was that Obi-Wan was here, reading a holopad and standing in the dirt kitchen.

“Tea?” He offered.

“I have officially lost it.” replied Vader. “How is this the afterlife, how are you here, what is going on. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m  _ so  _ sorry!” he furthered, unnamed emotions slipping through the Force. There went his plans of not dwelling on questions. But kriff Vader was confused. He had  _ killed  _ this man, murdered, maimed, massacred. He had systematically destroyed everything that Kenobi stood for, and he had done it without remorse. So why --in Sith’s Hells-- was Kenobi treating him like a friend? Let's have tea and discuss how I destroyed the galaxy, charming. What. The. Kark.

“The Force has many mysterious ways, but search your feelings, you know that this is where you are meant to be. Now come on then, tea. You can even put that sweetener nonsense you like in it, I imagine I have some somewhere.” Obi-Wan said, essentially brushing off all of the turmoil between them. He started rifling through his immaculately organized cabinets. Even in the afterlife he was a perfectionist, Vader thought laughing to himself.

“Finally.” Obi-Wan exclaimed, producing a rather old satchel of a vibrant green powder. “Now, Tea, and we shall talk.” Vader, still stunned, took his cup begrudgingly.


	3. Tea

Vader awkwardly swirled his tea round in his cup, ignoring the bantha in the room. Well banthas actually,  _ force _ he had no clue what to say to his old master. It had been so long since they had been on speaking terms, and even then the last few years of their relationship were strained by the war. Retrospectively, that was Palpatine’s doing, he thought bitterly, but the past was the past and the tension remained. Even with the strength of their past relationship, Vader doubted anything would make up for shoving his lightsaber quite efficiently through his old master’s neck. Thankfully, Obi-Wan saved him from the escalating awkwardness.

“Welcome to the in-between of the force, you are dead to the best of my knowledge, but your spirit has not moved forward. You will be glad to know that I haven’t the slightest clue why you are here as all others actively chose this fate.” He said with a glint in his eye, Vader even after all these years could read him like a book. He knew that look, Obi-Wan may not have known the full truth, but he certainly had a suspicion or two, Vader would bet his lightsaber on it.

“Others? Why are you the only one I have seen? Is Padme here?” He said, knowing full well even if he could see her, he didn’t deserve to. “Where are the other Jedi, is the Emperor here?” he continued with a thought of dread.

“To my knowledge only four  _ Jedi _ have ever achieved this state of limbo in the force. It would be impossible for a non-force sensitive.” Obi-Wan indirectly addressed his questions, typical Jedi thought Vader. He was saddened to hear that he wouldn’t see his wife, but also relieved. If he ever  _ did  _ see Padme again, she would probably kill him first and ask questions next. His thoughts trailed off into wondering if he could die twice, smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. Obi-Wan continued, “You and I however, are the only two who remain. My own master Qui-Gon only stayed long enough to teach Master Yoda how to maintain his presence in the force, I never encountered Qui-Gon myself.” Obi-Wan reflected with a tinge of sadness. “Yoda himself moved on the minute Luke became a Jedi master. He claimed he was too old to deal with more Skywalkers, citing that I was ‘ _ much better at helping the young ones you are, young Kenobi. Balanced the order will be, with your guidance. _ ’ before he moved forward.” Anakin smirked at his old Jedi Master’s Yoda impression. “Now, it is my time too. I promised myself I would guide your son and future Jedi until the force was at peace. Now I can sense that it is, and I can finally rest.” Obi-Wan provided. Vader took a moment to process.

“WAIT, don’t leave me yet! How do I move forward, how does this work? How long will I be stuck here? Do I have to stay on Tatooine?” Vader panicked loudly. He knew he didn’t even remotely deserve any help, but at this point he was not above grovelling for it.

“Dear one, relax. I am not leaving this second. We have much to discuss my young padawan. Drink your tea.” He stated calmly. Vader was thrown off by the pure honesty he heard in the other man’s voice. Obi-Wan didn’t seem angry, he didn’t seem vengeful, he didn’t even seem annoyed with Vader. Before he could reply however, Obi-Wan continued. “This is a state of mind, you must balance your emotions and balance your soul to become one with the Force.” Great, Vader thought, looks like he  _ is _ going to be stuck on this dustball for all eternity. “Fear not, you have already come so far, you have rejected the dark and you stand firmly in the light, all you must do is meditate on your balance.” Vader decided against a sarcastic quip about his track record with meditation, now was really not the time.

“So this is something I must do on my own?” he replied solemnly.

“Yes, however talking about your journey can help you achieve balance. Let us work through the shatterpoints of your life, and help you find peace with them.” Obi-Wan reasoned. 

Vader breathed deeply, there was so much he wished he could change, so much pain that he had caused. “The biggest mistake I made was trusting Palpatine.” he said, hesitatingly to start. “I wish more than anything that I could go back and never listen to a word he said. I let my attachments control my actions, and he used that against me.” He said, reflectively. “I lost what it was to be a Jedi during the war.” He whispered. “I wish the war had never happened. We lost so many lives, it wasn't necessary. I think that I was never meant to be a Jedi, I couldn’t follow the code.” He finished quickly and shamefully all in one breath. He did however feel lighter and more at peace now that his regrets were out in the open.

“You never had much control over your own life Anakin, and for that I am sorry. I did not help you, but my guidance hurt you-” Obi-Wan was immediately interrupted.

“Master, with all due respect, that is a load of bantha kark. You were an amazing Jedi, and a good mentor. I was immature and unworthy of all that you did for me, I didn’t appreciate your teachings. And I am  _ not _ him, Anakin Skywalker died long before I did...” Vader said with conviction, then trailed off. He realized in that moment that Obi-Wan’s signature seemed slightly off. Like a balance with one single credit tipping itself off center. It would only be noticeable to those closest to him, those familiar with his signature, a hair's width off of perfection and balance. “That’s why you’re really still here isn’t it.” He stated as a fact.

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan said weakly feigning disinterest.

“You are not balanced enough to move on because you thought you failed me.” He started strongly. On a roll, he continued “Well you didn’t! My actions, my choices. I was always too stubborn for my own good. Without you I would have fallen earlier. Luke may have saved me in the end, but without your guidance, I would still be down there in that damn suit. None of this is your fault Obi-Wan Kenobi, none of it. I failed myself, you did not fail me.” Obi-Wan looked defeated. Vader could tell he didn’t fully believe him, but he knew that his master could feel the truth pulsing in the force no matter how begrudgingly he chose to accept it. 

“I-, Well-, thank you  _ Anakin _ . I fear though that you are too kind. I have realized that what I taught you, the Jedi way is flawed. I fear that even if you hadn’t fallen the Jedi would have died out. The code was not perfect, yet we treated it as doctrine.” He professed, Vader could tell that this was something that had weighed heavily on his master. He himself was in disbelief. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the perfect Jedi, had just admitted that he felt failed by the code. The beliefs he had learned from the creche, the beliefs that had shaped his entire existence, he had denounced their power; even if it was only after his death. Vader couldn’t imagine what his master had seen over the years that had made him draw this conclusion. He did however see a serenity in his master's emotions, a peace and a balance. This surprised Vader, he thought that refuting any aspect of the Jedi way would have caused Obi-Wan deep pain.

“Master, the code has never been perfect, but you are a true Jedi. I have faith that Luke will do the new generation of Jedi justice, and reform the order to teach from a place of care not of apathy. The Jedi will learn to have emotion, yet peace. They will follow the old code, or even a new code, but I don’t believe Luke will incorporate old flaws. He grew up outside of the order like me, he is not blind to the failings as many others were.” Vader said, trying to be as reassuring as he could. 

He then felt a shift in the force, a warning that his time with his master was coming to a close. The shift centered around Obi-Wan, the slight imbalance from earlier had snapped into place. 

“Anakin, you are strong and wise and I am very proud of you. I feel that there is nothing more I can do to help you move on, the rest must be achieved alone. The Force is telling me it is my time to move onwards, and I have never lost faith in the Force.” Vader knew it was coming, the Force told him so. He went up to his old master and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Thank-you for everything Obi-Wan. You are truly an amazing Jedi, and even after everything, I hope you will let me consider you to be a good friend.” Vader was never one for words, so he pushed his emotions to Obi-Wan in the force. Respect, happiness, friendship, adoration, trust. Obi-Wan looked shocked at Vader’s outburst, but returned it with his own happiness and contentment. 

Vader was on the verge of tears, he was going to be left alone again. Obi-Wan sensed Vader’s pain, and he brought the younger man into a hug. Vader was shocked, Obi-Wan had never shown emotions like this, yet the warmth of the embrace proved how strong their bond was. After years of tourtured turmoil the force sang. Obi-Wan released him from the embrace, and sat in a meditative pose, moments later there was a flash of bright light. Vader’s master had moved on.


	4. The Force Shall Free Me

Vader did not cry, if anyone ever asked, he did not cry, he did not pout, and he definitely did not sleep with his master’s lightsaber next to his bed. Vader was pathetic, he knew this, but he also was alone and the lightsaber was the only thing keeping him slightly sane. It reminded him of a less complicated time, when he was but a learner in the Jedi Temple. He felt an ache of sadness and bitter nostalgia in his soul, reminiscing of a time before it all went to, well, kark. 

Ok fine, Vader moped. He wallowed in his own self pity, just slightly out of balance for three days straight. He thought back to his conversation with Obi-Wan and realized the only way to fix himself, was to do it himself. Forcing himself to do this however was a different story.

He decided upon wandering around the desert. If that didn’t balance his thoughts, at least he could rage-destroy sand with the dark side. A win-win situation he laughed, slightly unhinged. 

There were no lifeforms anywhere, the force told him so. Everything looked the same, yet it looked too perfect, too untouched, too sterile. He wandered to the old slave quarters, he wandered to Watto’s old shop, he wandered to the Lars family moisture farm. He found his mother’s place of rest, her body was not there, there was no one in this limbo, just the Force. He felt serenity however and sat down to meditate.

His thoughts dwelled unsurprisingly on death. He thought of the innocents he had killed, he thought of Obi-Wan’s death, he thought of Padme; he thought of Dooku, he thought of the Tusken raiders. He slowly found peace with all of them, mind still racing. Tendrils of the force untangling and showing clarity, slowly coming into balance. There is not Death, there is the Force. His brain went further back, he thought of his mother, he thought of those who died in battle, he thought of the blockade on Naboo. His final thoughts rested on Qui-Gon Jinn.

Jinn’s death was the first death he remembered with clarity, it was truly the beginning. He centered himself and meditated on it. He pictured a crisp memory of the funeral pyre, he felt the heat radiating strongly into the Force, he felt the devastation and loss from Obi-Wan through a fledgling training bond. He sunk even deeper into meditation becoming more and more entwined in the memory past and present blurring. He reached out and suddenly felt a hook, a tug, a lifeline.

Nine year old Anakin Skywalker felt weird. It had all started at Qui-Gon’s funeral, the Jedi Masters were talking in a language he didn’t understand and he had started to drift off into thought. He was sad, he was sad that Master Qui-Gon had died, and sad because Master Obi-Wan didn’t want him. He didn’t know what to think of his new Master who seemed cold towards Anakin, he hoped that he wouldn’t have to go back to Watto. He  _ wouldn’t  _ go back to Watto he thought with conviction; he wasn’t a slave, never again. He thumbed subconsciously at the healing mark on his right forearm where his slave chip had been removed. 

Anakin felt weirder, a budding headache turned into something more. He saw flashes, images, Jedi ships, white armies, crimson tinted battle stations, a blonde boy, a brunette girl. This confused him. He usually dreamed of podracing and space travel, and lately his dreams had been of becoming a Jedi Knight and freeing his mother. Anakin really didn’t want to bother his master with the weird thoughts passing through his head. He hoped that the flashes would go away, and he tried to ignore them. It was obvious that Master Obi-Wan was really sad about Master Qui-Gon’s death, but Jedi weren’t supposed to have friends so Master Obi-Wan hid it from Anakin, or at least he thought he did. As the funeral came to a close Anakin followed his Master back to their rooms. He lay in his bed thinking it was the most comfortable place in the whole galaxy and fell asleep; momentarily forgetting the images that passed through his mind.

In a small homestead in the Jundland Wastes, Darth Vader disappeared. Not in a Flash of white like his master, but in a fluid radiative spark of Force, like a gust of wind or an ocean wave. And in that moment, Vader ceased to exist, the title never to be uttered again.


	5. How Did I Kriff It Up So Badly?!

Anakin felt the stiff uncomfortable sheets as he rose from his slumber, they were undoubtedly standard issue Jedi, the council really needed to invest in a higher thread count he thought as he slowly emerged from his slumber. 

Wait,  _ sheets _ ? Was he in yet another layer of purgatory? He  _ had  _ meditated, and he  _ had  _ felt at peace. Of course he managed to kriff this up, he kriffed everything up, he thought hopelessly. Maybe he was hallucinating, he deduced as he lay there for a minute longer; eyes still closed, more tightly than necessary, contemplating opening them.

“Anakin.” he heard Obi-Wan call from another room.

“One minute.” Anakin replied. Great, back to square one, he thought. At least now we are contemplating the afterlife from the Jedi temple and not the dustball his mind supplied sarcastically. He opened his eyes and sat up. 

Something was wrong, his center of gravity was unbalanced, lower more compact. He took a moment to look at his body, his short body? His short arms? His short legs? “Force this is not good”, he thought to himself, but also whispered quietly. His voice was at least two octaves higher than it naturally should have been, and was many deviations off of Vader’s automated one. This was  _ really  _ not good. He sighed and stood up. Anakin conceded that it didn’t truly matter if he were ten or forty, either way, he was still dead. Hopefully Obi-Wan would have another genius plan on how to die properly. All he wanted was to dissolve into the Force, was that too much to ask he thought sarcastically?

He walked out of the room immediately recognizing the apartment as his own in the Jedi Temple. It was the apartment he shared with Obi-Wan during their apprenticeship before he had taken Ashoka as a Padawan. It looked different, more sparsely decorated, and there were moving boxes of things he didn’t recognize; a surprising amount of plants were in those boxes. The sun was just rising into the polluted atmosphere of Coruscant, peaking through the blinds Obi-Wan had yet to pull up. Anakin stretched, rustled through the cabinets, and started to make tea. He assumed the day would involve many cups of the evil beverage, and many attempts at meditation.

Obi-Wan walked out of the refresher, hair glistening, obviously having just showered. Anakin thought to himself that now really wasn’t the time, they had Force nonsense to solve, but he didn’t bother commenting. Obi-Wan himself looked young, no beard and strawberry hair that hadn’t faded to gold, like when Anakin had first met him. He also looked devastated, like someone had just kicked his pet Lothcat. Anakin figured his old master was just as upset to find himself “alive” and not one with the Force as the code professed. Maybe they should go about this the Sith way he thought. Sith apparently didn’t get stuck like this.

“Anakin I would like to address something with you.” stated Obi-Wan, bending down as if to talk to a child. Anakin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the action. “I know that this last week has been scary and new to you. I know that lots of things will be intimidating at first. I promise to do my best by you, and teach you what I know. I am sorry that Qui-Gon was unable to be your Master, but you will be a Jedi, and I will try my hardest to teach you as he would have.” Obi-Wan looked sad and worn down, but also determined. Anakin was just confused, what was he playing at, this wasn’t his usual sense of humor at all. Obi-Wan must have lost a few screws when he moved to this limbo, Anakin was going to make a quip about it, but something ineffable stopped him. Anakin smiled at Obi-Wan, defensively to buy some time.

He sunk into the Force letting the tendrils flow through his veins, and fully opened his mind up to its power. Anakin almost collapsed. An onslaught of life hit him like a speeder. He felt the Jedi, he felt the citizens of Coruscant, he reached further and felt the lifeforce of the planet itself. Stars it was exhilarating, frightening, and wonderful. He didn’t know what was happening, but he felt intoxicated. 

Obi-Wan was giving him a funny look. Anakin could feel his confusion and weariness. “So not Tatooine?” He commented slyly expecting his master to give insight into this new afterlife. 

“I’m sorry?” Obi-Wan replied, seeming and feeling thoroughly puzzled.

“Not Tatooine.” Anakin repeated.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin as if Anakin had the grammar of a Hutt. “I’m sorry my young padawan, I really should have given you a better introduction to Coruscant. Later today we can go around the upper levels and I will teach you some history. It truly is a different world from Tatooine and the Outer Rim.” Obi-Wan explained passionately, seeming to forget the awkward exchange.

A flicker of concern passed through Anakin, Obi-Wan’s statements felt free of jest. It unsettled Anakin. He tentatively reached into the Force, trying to make sense of the situation. Force flowing through him, he inquired more. “So, what’s the plan now?” That seemed like a safe enough question.

“We shall begin your training tomorrow.” his master replied. Anakin hoped weakly that Obi-Wan was speaking in metaphors, though out of character for the man, it was preferable to the other explanation that was rapidly descending.

Anakin decided to ask one more question, to confirm or deny his fears, but not reveal anything that would confuse his master and arouse suspicion. “Master, what day is it?” Innocent enough, yet the simple answer was capable of shattering his whole being. 

“It is the fourth day in the seventh rotation 32 BBY.” Replied Obi-Wan offhandedly. He then proceeded to move towards a holocom that was emitting a strident chirp. 

Anakin used this distraction to thoroughly and completely  _ freak out _ . He desperately reached into the force, and it sang the truth of his master’s words. Anakin  _ ran _ to the fresher loudly excusing himself to shower.

He looked in the mirror, his nine year old self looking back. Sandy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, slightly tanned skin. A tiny Padawan braid peeked out from behind his ear. He turned the water on to simply generate noise, he needed to think and fast.


	6. Shower Thoughts

Anakin realized many things at once. His thoughts were a jumbled disaster, and he needed a plan, or at least a Skywalker quality outline. Those worked well during the Clone Wars. His thoughts were interrupted however by the sound of his Master’s knock.

“Anakin I am needed in the med wing. There are many holoforms to be filled out due to your arrival, so I must see to them and ensure you are properly in the system. I’m sorry this has to be done on your first day in the Temple, but there is really no use putting it off.” Anakin sighed in relief, he had time to think. He absentmindedly realized he should acknowledge his master’s statement.

“That’s okay Master, I understand.” he responded. Minutes later he heard the door open then shut.

He quickly got out of the shower and headed to his room. Anakin realized that he needed to record his thoughts. Holo technology was out, too insecure. He looked at his bag from Tatooine, his meager possessions. A Japor wood carving, a small knife, some charcoal, various gears and gadgets, and a small podracing pamphlet from the Boonta Eve. He eyed the pamphlet hungrily, it was perfect. He quickly found blank space in the advertising section in between an ad for a Twi'lek brothel and a slave auction, he began “Plan: Step One?”

He paused. What in sith’s hell was his plan? What was even happening, there was no guideline to the bantha parade that was his current predicament. How does someone plan to relive their own kriffing life in their younger body after seeing some real kark throughout the whole aforementioned life. The Jedi code didn’t say anything about time travel, the Sith code didn’t say anything about time travel, but for better or worse this was sith karking time travel. The Force was silent, as if it were mocking him.

Anakin breathed in and centered himself. He had been given an opportunity to atone for his Fall, and he sure as kriff wasn’t going to give it up. He couldn’t tell anyone about his predicament for obvious reasons. “Hi Master Yoda, don’t mind me, just your favorite ex-Sith Lord padawan” probably wouldn’t go over too well. 

Well he had to begin somewhere. He picked up the charcoal and inscribed “Step one: Destroy Sidious.” Simple, yet effective. Anakin figured details were never his thing anyways, that was Obi-Wan’s job. “Okay, so step one done,” he told his wall. He thought back to his conversation with Obi-Wan just days before. More hesitantly he wrote “Step 2: Change the Jedi Code.” then with confidence he finalized the list “Step Three: Stop the Clone Wars.” He finished with a disclaimer, “Steps not necessarily in order,  or possible .” He sat back on his bed, double checking that the list was in Huttese, another safety precaution as he doubted any Jedi would have bothered to learn the tainted Outer Rim language.

Anakin sighed. He had so much more to consider, but for now he at least had the bare-bones basics. Shoving his plan under his mattress, he felt that Obi-Wan’s force presence was still in the infirmary. Kark! Force presence. He had the Force presence of a forty-five year old ex-Sith Jedi reject. It was a miracle that no one had kicked down his door and taken him away in chains yet. Anakin was beyond kriffed. He somehow was going to have to mask his presence, all while maintaining an alternative facade of a kriffing nine year old. 

Nine year old, eh chu ta! How was he supposed to remember what a nine year old acted like. Even worse, how was he supposed to remember what his nine year old self knew and didn’t know. This was going to end worse than a fish swimming in the Tatooine dunes. He sighed and contemplated jumping out the window, it was admittedly a moment of weakness.

He had one advantage though, Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is young, never had a padawan, and wouldn’t know what to expect from the apprenticeship. Additionally, Anakin’s midichlorians are off the charts, so any slip ups could be explained away as Chosen One poodoo. Then again...Obi-Wan is the most detail oriented, observant, and type A Jedi in the order. Anakin was thoroughly karked.

Anakin sighed and sat on the couch with his now cold tea wishing it were stronger,  _ much _ stronger. Eventually he dozed off. He awoke later and slightly disoriented to the sound of the door opening.

“Sorry that took so long Padawan. It’s time for lunch now. I have somewhere special I want to take you and then we can explore Coruscant” Obi-Wan exclaimed. 

Well showtime, Anakin thought as he put on his brightest nine year old smile.


	7. Dex's Diner

Shiny durasteel, retro booths, cheap floor panels. Anakin was overwhelmed by the smell of cheap jogan fruit cleaner, and overly greasy food. Dex’s Diner. He hadn’t been there in over twenty years, not since before his Fall. The restaurant had become a dark and dangerous place during the wars, a hotspot for the scum of Coruscant, all because Dex never asked questions. Now however it was a friendly environment, sure there were a few credits exchanged for information, but it was over the counter sort of crimes.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” boomed a heavyset Besalisk. “I was so sorry to hear about your master, I’ll really miss the old bastard. Qui-Gon was a good man.” Dex said caringly, then looked down at Anakin. “You have a runt? Already! What’s your name little one?”

Anakin gazed into the eyes of his old friend from another life, “Anakin Skywalker sir, I’m Master Obi-Wan’s Jedi Padawan.” Anakin replied formally, hoping to sound respectful, as if he had never met the man.

“Bah, get rid of the sir, call me Uncle Dex. I’ve known your master since he was smaller than you, and I’ve got many stories to boot.” Dex replied jovally.

Obi-Wan interjected “No, he has no stories Anakin, do not listen to a word that comes out of his mouth.” Obi-Wan looked lighter, like his burden had been slightly lifted making him happier. Dex gestured towards a booth with a sparkling view of Coruscant. He proceeded to hand Anakin a menu.

“On the house for my favorite Jedi, I’ll start on your usual. Kid, let me know when you figure out what you want.” Dex addressed them both. As he walked away Obi-Wan’s attention turned to Anakin.

“Everything is edible, but I would avoid the soups if you value your taste buds.” Obi-Wan supplied helpfully. Anakin smiled softly to himself, he and his master had spent years sifting through the old menu slowly perfecting their orders. At this point it time, Obi-Wan had yet to discover his love for Dex’s fried tubers. Anakin decided to remediate that. He proceeded to pretend to read his menu, then called over the nearest wait-droid.

“I’ll have a Bantha burger and fried tubers please.” He decided against the double burger figuring his young stomach didn’t have the capacity for it. He then turned to Obi-Wan deciding to try and figure out the current state of affairs in the galaxy. “Obi-Wan, what is that giant building over there?” He questioned.

“That’s the Senate building, it is the center of all politics in the galaxy. You will learn much about it in your Padawan studies.”

“Really? How does it work?” Anakin feigned ignorance. He laughed internally at the thought of Anakin Skywalker taking interest in politics.

“Well democracy is a vital part of our galaxy.” Obi-Wan began. Oh great, Anakin thought, his first unfiltered unapologetic Obi-Wan lecture --some things never change. “Every planet has representatives that make up a legislative body called the Galactic Senate. There is a democratically elected leader which is currently Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. The Chancellor is a figurehead, the position itself holds little more power than a Senator, but they are the face of the Republic.” Obi-Wan finished. 

Anakin felt literal chills hearing that last sentence. He pledged to research exactly how power could be acquired in order to figure out how its acquisition could be prevented. Force, he was going to turn into his master, always having his nose somewhere in the archives with a holopad and stylus in hand. At least he would be easier on Obi-Wan this time around, he thought to himself. A studious Padawan was easier to control than a hyperactive one with a penchant for lightsaber injuries.

Their food arrived sizzling, and greasy. Exactly as he remembered. Obi-Wan put some credits on the table citing that even when things are free for Jedi, Jedi should not take. Anakin stared at the credits, a realization hit him. He needed credits, a sustainable income for if he ever had to go rogue. Anakin bit into his burger, and offered Obi-Wan a tuber. This was going to be a mess.


	8. The First Night

Anakin finally returned to the Temple late that night. Obi-Wan had taken him everywhere, literally  _ everywhere.  _ He had seen essentially the entire surface of Coruscant in the span of six hours and he was exhausted. Physically from walking around a whole kriffing planet, mentally from his excessive shielding needed for entering the lobby of the Senate building.

As he lay down for bed he groaned and settled into one final task. He had been brainstorming all day and had finally come up with rules. He needed rules. He would forget himself without them; he would lose sight of his goals. A code of sorts, not Jedi, not Sith, but rather “How not to Kriff up space-time and plunge the Galaxy into a millennium of darkness for dumbasses”.

**Rule One: Never use the Dark Side**

The first was admittedly self explanatory, but Anakin was genuinely an idiot he reminded himself. If he ever were to use the Dark Side it would essentially put a tracking beacon and a giant neon sign on his force signature to all other Darksiders saying “Sith here, hi my name is Anakin the Sith, did I mention that I am a Sith? Here is my Sithly location and my Sithly powers, hope to see you soon!” An even worse consequence was the actual Fall that using some of the more powerful methods would entail. Anakin had a great deal of control over the easier tricks of the Darkside and could maintain his anchor in the light if he were to use them. Others, however, were a different story. If he were to need certain powers from his repertoire to defeat Sidious, he would need to unconditionally Fall. And Anakin didn’t know if he had the willpower to claw himself back out anymore. 

**Rule Two: Never drop your shields**

Especially not while on Coruscant. Sidious had his roots  _ everywhere  _ Anakin knew this for a fact. His old master had a web of darkness settled over the entire planet. It monitored the comings and goings of the Senate, and especially kept a watchful yellow eye on the Jedi. It was how Sidious had known to target Anakin and Dooku for his plans, he could sense Dooku’s dissatisfaction with the Jedi, and he was intoxicated by Anakin’s raw, turbulent power. 

Anakin had carefully crafted his shields, the first was a durasteel dome, nothing came in and nothing went out. It blocked his past from prying probes, not even Sidious could sense its existence. The second encased it, it was a soft ethereal plasma. Bright white yet opaque and moving. This was his Jedi mask, if anyone were to look it showed that his presence was firmly in the light, not a hint of darkness; less likely to Fall than the bottom of a valley. It served a dual purpose, it could project carefully crafted beams of emotion into the force, the story Anakin wanted told. The third was jagged and motley, it was his facade. It represented what his shields would have been at age nine, some untrained natural shielding, crude and wholly ineffective. A patchwork mess protecting himself from the harshness of slavery. The shields were never to be dropped, not for torture, not for the Council, not even at death. Or Anakin feared the consequences.

**Rule Three: Never fall in love**

Padme. He mourned for his once love, he truly had loved her. But now it was a soft burning nostalgia, no longer the raging fiery love it had been in his youth. He knew that it was not meant to be, even then, but he was selfish and he pursued it anyways. Love had been what destroyed him; he was unable to accept death, unable to let go. He wanted to encase those he loved in a bubble and protect them from all else. This attachment led to his Fall, and he wouldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t let it happen again, the fate of the Galaxy depended on it, he could not be that selfish.

Three simple rules, yet each devastating in their own regards. He could never use the power of the dark to defeat adversaries. He could never bare his unshielded self to those closest to him. He could never experience the depths of pure love for the other half of his soul. 

In a way, it was his penance, his purgatory. He would never truly belong in this universe. He was too far removed from reality, tainted by his past. But he could change it all, he could do good. It would never undo his original sins, but he would fix this timeline. He may even die trying, but been there done that. Satisfied, Anakin finally drifted off to sleep.


	9. Day At The Temple

The next morning Anakin woke to a holo-notification. It read:

Skywalker, Anakin Rank: Junior Padawan

Expectations: A Junior Padawan learner will attend daily lessons when not on missions with their Master. Lessons are listed below; descriptions are provided. Attendance and timeliness are mandatory for a Jedi. Each class has a duration of 1.5 standard hours with the exception of meditation and balance at 3 standard hours. Questions can be directed to your Master.

Weekly Itinerary

Primeday

| 

Centaxday

| 

Taungsday

| 

Zhellday

| 

Benduday  
  
---|---|---|---|---  
  
0900 Force Technique

| 

0900

Apprenticeship

| 

1000 Physics and Mathematics

| 

0900 Galactic History

| 

0600 Meditation and Balance  
  
1300 Apprenticeship

| 

1100 Galactic Affairs

| 

1200 

Apprenticeship

| 

1400 Lightsaber Dueling

| 

1200 Astronavigation  
  
1500 Lightsaber Training

| 

1300 Flight and Mechanics

| 

2100 Night Training

| 

1600

Apprenticeship

| 

1500

Apprenticeship  
  
Apprenticeship: Lessons directly from your Master, curriculum at their discretion.

Astronavigation: Determination of Galactic placement due to position of stellar material.

Flight and Mechanics: Piloting and understanding of flight systems with an emphasis on safety.

Force Technique: Channeling the Force, focus on precision and energy conservation.

Galactic Affairs: Current politics of the galaxy and the importance of Jedi neutrality.

Galactic History: Past occurrences and cultural awareness training for diplomatic missions.

Lightsaber Dueling: Applied lightsaber training against similarly skilled opponents. 

Lightsaber Training: Introduction to the first six forms of saber combat with a focus on Form I.

Meditation and Balance: Different types of meditation and their uses, emotional balance, shielding. 

Night Training: Applied combat, awareness training, and landing of spacecraft after the sun has set. 

Physics and Mathematics: The language of galactic technology with a focus on hyperspace travel.

End Transmission.

Anakin stared at his itinerary. Well this was going to be interesting, painfully boring, but hopefully useful. He was particularly looking forward to his Galactic Affairs class hoping that it would help him straighten out his timeline a bit. He laughed at the description of his flight class “with emphasis on safety”. He hoped that whoever the instructor was had a similar alignment on the matter as himself. What had Obi-Wan called his flying over the years again? “Suicidal”, “utterly insane”, “unnecessarily and outrageously dangerous”, and Anakin’s personal favorite “ANAKIN! SLOW DOWN BEFORE YOU KILL US ALL!” He laughed to himself.

Anakin entered the main room, grabbed a piece of fruit and headed off to his Force technique class, excited for the day.

Fifteen minutes into the first lesson and he wanted to die. He didn’t mean to zone out, really. It was just there were only so many ways he could purposely mess up levitating a marble before he got bored out of his mind. Hiding his skills was more work than showing them off. Force forbid he starts learning bad habits from his calculated blunders. Anakin sighed and continued to listen to Master Plo Koon, at least he wouldn’t have to study this time around.

The rest of the week was just as uneventful. Anakin went to his classes, learned with Obi-Wan, and contemplated chain-smoking deathsticks out of pure boredom. Something had to change, at this rate he _would_ lose his skills, and he needed every weapon in his repertoire to defeat Sidious. He made a decision.

That night after his Master had fallen asleep, Anakin pushed a powerful sleep suggestion across the bond, enough to knock-out a herd of banthas for a whole growing season. Excessive, but with Obi-Wan essentially comatose, Anakin could carry out his plan. Plus, what his Master didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Anakin silently spliced into the Jedi systems, beginning with the medbay. Opening his own file, he marked himself as bedridden and contagious with Corrilliean fever, he quickly did the same for Obi-Wan. _No one_ would be coming near their rooms anytime soon, smirking, he opened the flight logs and navigation system. He found what he needed quickly, a speedy one man fighter. He hastily checked it out to Quinlan Vos whom he knew was Temple bound with his Padawan Aayla Secura. He had seen her name as someone _actually_ positive for Corillean fever. Vos was perfect, he was absolutely not the type to check his own navigation logs, and he was a Knight so on one would bat an eye at the check-out.

Anakin swiftly headed to his ship, and under the mask of darkness he plugged in the coordinates, and left the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not technologically adept enough to make Anakin's schedule look like the grid that it is on my google drive, so someone please tell me if it is utter gibberish and I will try another method if that is the case.


	10. Ilum

The dark icy planet of Ilum lay in the distance of Anakin’s viewport. The hyperspace travel had taken him close to fourteen standard hours, but it was worth every second. Anakin looked to the ground to find a suitable location to land --He didn’t think any younglings would be there to collect their crystals as it was halfway through an Ilum night of seventeen standard rotations -- but he decided to keep his ship out of sight regardless.

Anakin landed between two icy cliffs, the Force assured him of their stability. He hopped out and began his trek, bitter wind biting his exposed face. No one could truly prepare for the harsh climate of Ilum, yet it was still better than sand he concluded. Boots trudging forward through snowdrift after snowdrift, he was attacked by sharp fangs of ice cutting at his ankles. Finally he reached a cliff-face. To an outsider, it blended into the terrain, however Anakin knew better. He reached into the force, and the Force listened. Ice crunching, straining, crumbling to dust; an entrance appeared in its wake.

Crossing the threshold Anakin stared in awe, the beauty of frozen architecture and sculptures of powerful Jedi Masters of the past gazed upon him. Frozen fractals, carved pillars, ostentatious doorways and at the zenith of it all a magnificent focusing crystal. Anakin chuckled to himself, as a Padawan he should have known it was a farce, Jedi and grandeur didn’t belong in the same sentence. A hazing ritual of sorts allowed for a Master to use the crystal to cut through ice as if it were grainmush. The younglings were then told they had a short timeframe to succeed or they would be trapped alive for an Ilum night. Terrified, they would then go retrieve their crystal.

Kyber crystals. The reason Anakin had essentially drugged his Master. A Kyber crystal led to a lightsaber which Anakin needed, and fast. He needed a method of protection and interrogation, hidden from the Jedi.

With sheer brute force and willpower Anakin cracked the entrance of the cave network open and proceeded forward. 

The caves themselves contrasted sharply with the entrance room. An air of danger carried through the stagnant air, barbed stalactites threatened to make their descent, false entrances, pools of water depths unknown. These threats paled in comparison to the Force visions however, they preyed on your deepest weaknesses, innermost thoughts. A spice trip magnified by ten-thousand and gone horribly wrong, all meant to keep the darkness at bay; testing the worthy. One could become trapped in their own mind until their demise, their own personal hell. Anakin hoped he was ready.

Starting at a jog to save time, Anakin shut off his senses and slipped into the Force, he heard screams. An invisible entity slammed into him, preventing his advance. The crystals had stared into his past and seen the atrocities he had committed, and they were horrified. He spoke into the Force praying to be heard “I can never undo what has been done, however I can still do good. I swear upon my own soul that I will  _ NEVER  _ turn, I will save this galaxy from its own darkness, and I  _ WILL  _ restore balance.” Suddenly he saw flashes, the worst moments of his life in an endless loop. Force choking Padme  _ flash  _ Mustafar  _ flash  _ destroying Aldeeran  _ flash  _ killing Obi-Wan  _ flash  _ torturing Leia  _ flash  _ cutting off Luke’s hand  _ flash  _ waking up again- It was excruciating, the crystals drove into his brain with their sharpened blades preying upon his psyche. They pushed past his shields and found his soul. Bright gray it gleaned. He was the balance, anchored unmovable in the light, yet humbled and jaded by the dark. Walking a fine line between the two. He understood then, it  _ was  _ a choice. All of it. He could not Fall again because it was his choice. He would always hear the call to darkness, its passionate smoky tendrils wrapping around him like a lover, yet the sound of his own free will was louder. It cloaked around him like a shield preventing his Fall, Anakin  _ chose  _ to remain in the light, and no one but himself could alter his choice.

The crystals had calmed, they felt his inner turmoil settle. The barricade of light fell, and Anakin truly entered Ilum.


	11. Saber

In the end, three crystals had agreed to meld with him in the Force. Symbiosis was the Jedi way, he would work with his crystals as equals, as it should be. The Sith never understood this, they saw crystals as a thing to tame, a slave; their true power could never be realized because the Sith was a toxin polluting its crystal, killing it.

Anakin punched in the hyperspace coordinates of Coruscant, fourteen hours. His first saber had taken him almost two weeks to craft, he had fourteen hours, and two sabers. Better get started. He dumped out a dusty bag of salvaged mechanical scraps. He had hastily raided the fighting salles and ship repair deck before his departure, it would have to do.

Looking down at his crystals he grinned, they were stunning. One was a sharp Azure, blue as Obi-Wan’s eyes. He smirked at the thought imagining his Master’s reaction to being compared to a Kyber crystal. The crystal however had depth, at its center there was a clouded streak of violet, violently bleeding brightness. His next crystal was just as fascinating, it was entirely opaque and colorless save for one small facet that had an almost unnoticeable tint of magenta. The first two crystals were connected, they longed for each other in the force they would make his dual-focus saber. The third crystal concerned Anakin, it was the smallest of the three, yet the power that swirled in its depths was unnerving as was the color, bright crimson. Even alone, the blade it would make would surpass the power of the first, unheard of for a single crystal blade. He set the crimson crystal to the side and proceeded to assemble his first saber. 

Feeling into the Force, his hands grasped scrap after scrap determining their importance and sorting them accordingly. After acquiring what was needed, he began his assembly. Sinking deeper into the force, parts flew around him piecing together like a jigsaw, creating the saber grip. Finally, Anakin lifted his crystals into place, they vibrated and hummed in anticipation of their new home. The blade was complete. Anakin pulled out of his meditation and picked up his new saber. Lavender stared back at him, almost periwinkle, if Mace Windu ever felt this blade he would have an aneurysm. Anakin grinned at the idea of the Korun Jedi finally having some competition, Windu took deep pride in his purple saber as it was a mark of his mastery of Vaapad, the darkest form of Jedi combat. Anakin’s saber would react well to Vaapad, form VII, along with Djem So, form V; his personal favorite.

The second saber assembly went much faster as Anakin prepared his final crystal for placement. He lifted the crystal carefully, as if diffusing a bomb, off of the floor and towards the saber. It clicked ominously into place sound reverberating through the fighter cockpit. Anakin lifted it and hit engage, a deep blood red appeared mocking him. _BOOM!_ Anakin was thrown backwards as his blade disengaged, a shockwave in the Force passed through him. Struggling to stand he moved towards his second saber, the origin of the radiation. Tentatively picking it up, Anakin swore to never engage it again. It was too dangerous, he could not sense the reason for its eruption. He shoved the blade deep into his bag and vowed to disassemble it while not traveling at lightspeed.

 _Wait, listen._ Anakin heard in the Force. Assuming his own insanity, Anakin ignored the call. The force did not “talk”, its influence was ineffable, not explicit. Returning his attention to his navi-screen, he heard it again. _WAIT, LISTEN!_ Startling, Anakin felt for the source of the cry, a single golden thread reached for him, pulling him like an uncomfortably hooked fish towards his bag. Anakin felt a sense of dread when he picked up his second saber, yet the thread vanished. What was the Force telling him? _Wait, listen…_ with a start, Anakin realized that the Force itself had not called upon him, but rather his crimson crystal. Slowly, Anakin moved to engage the blade. A magnificent golden beam sprung forward, the crystal sang in happiness, resonating at a new harmonic. It was no longer the explosive excited state of the red blade; the saber had returned to its ground state, stable, certain, and golden. Anakin was stunned, he had never heard of a lightsaber changing color, yet the force no longer felt foreboding. The powerful blade felt right, his lavender blade would work for him, but _this_ was his true lightsaber. He sighed at the knowledge that it would have to be hidden, even more so than the lavender one; Gold, though not inherently dark, was an unusual and identifying color for a blade, one of a kind. His lavender blade would not suffer this prejudice. Only up close scrutiny by a seasoned Jedi master could discern the blade’s neutral alignment in the force. All others would have no reason to suspect that the blade was not a variation of Jedi blue.

Anakin descended rapidly into Coruscant’s atmosphere, hiding under the cloak of darkness. He disembarked, and headed to his quarters. He removed the sleep suggestion upon Obi-Wan and placed a memory suggestion. It was not meant to harm his Master in any way it would simply prevent the young Knight from thinking too deeply upon the past few days. If Obi-Wan were to try and remember what he had done, his mind would simply gloss over the memories and redirect his attention elsewhere. He _hated_ tricking Obi-Wan like this, but he didn’t have a choice. Finally, he spliced back into the Temple systems. Fighter-7567 marked returned at a reasonable hour by one Quinlan Vos; Corrilean fever documented as two speedy recoveries for Kenobi-Skywalker. Satisfied that his tracks were covered, Anakin crawled into bed stashing his lightsabers in the ventilation port.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Zelda reference in this chapter because why not.


	12. Apprenticeship

Two months had passed and Anakin had yet to touch a real saber, or even a training saber. He was bored out of his mind sitting through his Lightsaber training and dueling courses as they had only covered the conceptual nature of combat. Anakin thought this was absurd, how was one supposed to learn a kata without, well without doing the damn kata. He decided to carefully breach the subject to Obi-Wan during their apprenticeship training. The Anakin of a past life would have whined and complained to his Master, this Anakin thankfully had a little more tact.

“Hey Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, looking up from a holopad. He had been learning how to navigate the Archive organizational system as part of his apprenticeship training. “We learned today that training sabers cannot do serious harm. They are a tool for learning new skills without the repercussion of injury.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan replied hesitantly, trying to feel out where his apprentice was going with this.

“Master Krell also said that Junior Padawans are not allowed to use training sabers. Why is that?”

“It is not deemed necessary because the missions that Junior Padawans are sent on are low risk. No one is attacked on a low urgency diplomatic mission to a Core World.”

“What about when things do go wrong? I was really lucky to have survived the blockade without any training, what if another Padawan were put in a similar position. Couldn’t some additional training give them the edge they need to survive?” Obi-Wan gave Anakin his full attention.

“I do see your point Anakin, but it is immaterial, even if a Padawan were to have Saber training they would not have access to a lightsaber until after they have built their own. Senior Padawans who are ready to go on combat missions are taken to a sacred Jedi site where they partake in a ritual that determines their worthiness of a Kyber crystal. It is only then that they begin training both with training sabers and their own.” Anakin commanded his eyes to remain forward instead of indulging the roll that they desperately seeked.

“I disagree, Master, the way I see it the Jedi have a distinct advantage. No one other than a Jedi would be able to distinguish a training saber from a real saber. Junior Padawans could learn basic defensive katas and carry a training saber with them on missions. The saber itself would deter adversaries from attack, and would allow for Padawans to block blaster bolts and other minor things.” Anakin stated knowing he had almost won. Obi-wan looked pensive and stroked the beginnings of his once famous golden beard.

“An interesting idea Anakin, not one without merit, however I still feel that you are overly cautious about the nature of these missions; you will soon realize how safe they are and dare I say it, how dry you may find them.” Anakin couldn’t hold back a laugh, Obi-Wan had admitted that diplomacy could be dry, banthas must be flying. He quickly disguised it as a cough and schooled his expression, the seed had been planted and it was time for the water.

“I understand Master. Isn’t caution better than chaos though?” He started, adding a nod to the code to sell his point. “Even if nothing ever goes wrong, diligence is a positive attribute, it promotes serenity and eliminates unpredictable variables. Furthermore, It can’t truly hurt to start training Padawans younger, it would only strengthen our saber skills for when we do begin training with our own sabers. Especially in the current political climate, I fear that we may need them sooner than ever.” Obi-Wan looked at him strangely, he quickly realized he had spoken like a forty-five year old war General with a penchant for foresight and not a ten year old child. He backtracked. “Plus lightsabers are so cool! And my classes are really boring, we get to talk about saberwork, but aren’t allowed to try it.” he pouted.

Obi-Wan saw right through him scrutinizing Anakin in awe, prodding at their bond but never in an invasive way. It was against his nature to harm Anakin, one protected the other, the force deemed it so. Seemingly tabling his internal inquiry for a later time --for Anakin knew that he had slipped up and his Master would question him eventually, Obi-Wan spoke. “I see that you have given this a lot of thought, my young apprentice. I have no sway over your classes, nor can I gain any ground petitioning to the council, but if it is something you are interested in I can begin teaching you myself. There are no rules against a Master teaching his student saber training early however unorthodox the training is, and I feel that you have shown the necessary maturity needed to handle a weapon.” Anakin internally cheered, perfect! He would take care of the council, by showing them that a Junior Padawan had quickly learned saber skills, he was confident that they would deem them appropriate for others to learn as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who has read this far HOLY COW, you are amazing and I love you!!! This is the last chapter in my chapter dump of stuff I'd already written. I don't really have a plot planned out or anything, but I promise I will keep working on this pretty frequently. Sorry if my grammar is atrocious, I haven't written a real paper since high school. This is honestly a lot of fun for me though, its kind of cathartic to be able to write about something you actually want to write about rather than just analyzing Shakespeare. Any comments are super welcome as I have no clue what I'm doing. Stay safe :)


	13. Training Salle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of a three chapter chapter dump. Eventually I'm going to come up with fun witty chapter titles, but today is not that day.

“...As I’m sure they have explained to you in your lightsaber training class, there are seven forms of lightsaber combat. Form one, Shii-Cho, is the form we are going to be focusing on to start with. It is the most basic form of combat and all others build off of it. It’s crucial that your foundations are solid before you learn the more complex styles.” 

Anakin looked up from his spot on the training mat. Obi-Wan had been droning on and on about the history of lightsabers. Only  _ his _ master could make combat seem dull. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he had zoned out. Obi-Wan’s answering gaze told him otherwise. 

Obi-Wan sighed audibly, “Alright, stand up and I’ll take you through your fist kata. Watch me closely.” gracefully flowing through the Shii-Cho defensive kata, he demonstrated the movements at half speed. “Alright now your turn, Anakin.” Anakin readied his saber and sunk into the Force. “High Parry” Obi-Wan called out, Anakin’s saber responded “Diagonal Parry” Anakin aggressively acquiesced “Basic Block” “Vertical Parry” “Diagonal Parry” Anakin was flying through the kata, acutely aware of his surroundings. “Basic Block” “Vertical Parry” “Diagonal Parry” Anakin repeated the motions on his opposite side. “Overhead Parry” “Basic Block” “Basic Block” The kata was almost complete. “Kai Kan Drop Stance” Anakin withdrew his force presence and snapped back to physical reality. His kata had felt off, he wasn’t used to having real arms, he hadn’t had this level of mobility in decades. It was far from perfect, but that was good given that he was allegedly a ten year old padawan.

Obi-Wan was the first to speak “Anakin I-, Anakin that was phenomenal for your first attempt. You carried yourself like a seasoned combatant. There are a few minor corrections I have, but other than that you were truly excellent.” He looked befuddled. Well sithspit. Maybe rusty Sith Lord in a new body terrible was equivalent to ten year old exceptional. Kark it.

“Thanks Master! I tried really hard to do exactly what you did so that I wouldn’t make a mistake.” He responded, pushing crafted emotional bolts of earnest and honest into the Force.

“Well let’s go again. Try and keep your elbows in on the upswing, and don’t lunge as much on your left side. Full speed this time.” Obi-Wan looked delighted and radiated with pride.

By the end of the lesson Obi-Wan looked utterly defeated and completely overwhelmed; he was out of his depth. In the Force, his signature emanated confusion and panic over lack of control. Anakin  _ knew _ he had messed up. He wanted to hug his master and reassure him that he was doing a really good job teaching Anakin if Anakin were normal; it just may not always seem that way because Anakin was a time-traveling war General. Okay, so Anakin may have been just a _ little _ too dramatic with his padawan impersonation. He had swung spastically like a pendulum, deviating from excellent saber form to atrocious uncivilized hacking. He was like a storm in the Force, imposing, untamable, and chaotic. His poor Master was thoroughly bewildered by his inconsistencies, and that was where the problem lay. Anakin felt really bad. At least there was no hint of suspicion from Obi-Wan’s signature, but he did sense a slight desire to go curl up in a corner and hyperventilate.

“Master. I think I’m going to go to the archives more to study control and balance.”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed and pinched his brow “I think that is an excellent idea.” 

Even after everything, Obi-Wan did not go back on his word --he never had. They established a concrete training schedule for saber combat: every Centaxday at 0900. It was a good start, but it wasn’t enough. Anakin’s combat abilities were pathetic, and dumbing them down was obviously not working. If Sidious were to walk through that door right now, Anakin wouldn’t even be able to raise a Saber in time to defend himself. He needed a place to train and it couldn’t be in the Temple. 


	14. The Archives

Obi-Wan was utterly delighted, Anakin could tell. Anakin had taken to spending all of his free time in the Archives. For three months straight anyone who saw Anakin Skywalker saw him with a holopad in one hand, and caff in another. It was an adorable sight to just about anyone, Anakin was a cute Junior Padawan trying to embody the habits of his sophisticated Master. Anakin’s predicament was  _ not _ adorable to Anakin. He had spent days agonizing over a way that he could navigate out of the Temple undetected. He desperately needed a place for  _ real  _ saber training and an outlet for business proceedings. 

The only upside of his prolonged bibliographical nightmare was it made Obi-Wan happy. And after all that Anakin had done to him in his past life, making Obi-Wan happy was Anakin’s foremost priority in this one; aside from saving the galaxy of course. ~More important than saving the galaxy~ his subconscious supplied. He yelled at his subconscious.

He had looked through all the literature pertaining to abandoned Temple entrances, Coruscant underground tunnels, and Temple security. Nothing. Months of nothing. Sitting on his bed he reached out with the Force to feel for his sabers making sure they were still hidden.  _ In the ventilation shaft.  _ Anakin froze. What an  _ idiot _ . He had spent  _ months _ trying to solve an unsolvable problem when a solution was right under his brainless nose. He quickly pulled up a blueprint of the Temple. Choosing to overlay all the utilities structures he had previously ignored, a multitude of options presented themselves.

He learned that the Temple had centralized electricity and thermal controls, they were off of the grid, separate from the rest of Coruscant. Sewage however was interconnected to the planet. And the pipes all led to the same place: The Lower Levels. 

There are many things that people don’t know about Coruscant. When you are a former ruler of the galaxy, however, you know many things about many things that people don’t know. Anakin Skywalker was of the latter. He knew that there were over 5000 levels in Coruscant. He knew that anywhere below the power grid was under the radar for law enforcement. And he knew that the bottom 1,000 layers were utter chaos, no questions asked, rampant crime, permeating hopelessness. Sidious, the elitist bastard that he was, would never be caught dead somewhere without a formal dress code. Anakin didn’t doubt his old Master’s ability to reach his Force presence out to the lower levels, but knew with utter conviction that doing so was beneath the man. It was the perfect place for Anakin to remain invisible. After all, money was the language of Coruscant’s underground, and anyone could speak it. Even a Padawan.


	15. Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so gross, but I refuse to apologize. I was laughing at Anakin the whole time I wrote it.

Ironically, after three months of research, the planning only took three days. It was simple. When necessary he would place a sleep suggestion upon his Master, escape, train, carry out his business, and return. A Skywalker quality outline.

He snuck into his Master’s room, Obi-Wan was sleeping peacefully. Anakin placed a hand over his head to make the suggestion hold. He froze. His Master was kind of beautiful, Anakin decided. He was like a statue of a God. Anakin had never truly taken the time to observe the other man. Sure he knew his Master’s body just as well as his own, he had single-handedly repaired it countless times during the war, but it was from a clinical standpoint. Looking at Obi-Wan now was different, alluring. His perfect cheekbones and sharp jaw accentuated his delicate face. His hair was a stunning blend of gold and copper, softening his features. His famous beard was just a shade of what it would be, but it was still magnificent. And his lips, _force_ his lips, Anakin turned away blushing. He hastily shoved all of his emotions into a durasteel box and drop kicked it deep into his psyche. Focusing on the task, he took one last lingering look and left.

 _Click_ , his bedroom door locked shut. Hastily he removed the cover to the vent shaft, and retrieved his lavender saber. He thought for a second, then stuck his gold one under a pile of droid parts and trash. Slipping on a waterproof full body suit, he grabbed a practical bag of emergency supplies. The war had taught him many things, but being prepared for anything was one of the central tenets that had stuck with him. His final precaution could easily bite him in the ass, but he figured it was worth the risk --if anything were to happen to him, the Jedi would need a lead. The tracking device fit snugly around his wrist, its counterpart sat on his bed. He took a moment to breathe and then began his descent.

Holofilms were _kriffing liars,_ one did _not_ feel cool and suave repelling through ventilation shafts. It did _not_ give Anakin a sense of badassery, rather a sense of irritated sinuses due to all of the dust he was kicking up. It also took _forever._ Anakin’s ventilation shaft was essentially a straight shot to the main utilities junction, but getting there quietly took half an hour. Once he reached the metallic junction he had to crawl through a claustrophobia inducing and suspiciously damp connection pipe to reach the plumbing system. Dutifully drudging forward, the smell hit him, Anakin was now _actively questioning_ whether the galaxy was even worth it. It was as if rancid Bantha excrement had been left to rot further in a warm Hutt brothel, his eyes watered from the sheer putridity of it. Democracy, who cares? Palpatine could have whatever he wanted, the system, the galaxy, the universe. As long as Anakin didn’t have to go near -- _that._ He sucked in a breath and activated his suit, it now encased his head as well as his body.

Following the stench, Anakin reached a rusty platform. Behind him lay a flaky sign that indicated the entrance to the Jedi Plumbing System. Other platforms were around him, spread out but still visible. They all had different markings, most simply a “Level 4028 B” or “Level 5033 Upper” but some, like the Jedi, designated specific locations. He looked down, There were thousands of levels to go, he had barely scratched the surface. Connecting a rappel line to solid durasteel, he jumped blindly.

Anakin fell for over a minute, the Force floating him downwards. He took in the beautiful sight of waterfalls of literal shit, and wondered what other demeaning activities were in his future. Oh how the elite had fallen, from Supreme Commander to Sewage Connoisseur, the things Anakin did for the stupid stanging kriffing galaxy. Eventually he reached the bottom, thoroughly coated in splatters of unmentionable substances. The sewer system was located on the 231st level, _deep underground._ He followed the river of unprocessed waste and found an unguarded exit. 

Entering the dim streets of the 231st level, he violently expunged all of the fine additions to his attire into the Force. Donning a simple black cloak from his bag, he moved onwards. The Coruscant underworld was not ready for Anakin Skywalker. But Anakin Skywalker had acquired his new turf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters done :) Hope y'all are staying safe in quarantine.


	16. Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first arc of two I wrote this week. I'm posting a total of four chapters today so stay tuned! Hope everyone is doing well and staying safe :)

Anakin’s ruse had been working exceptionally well, he thought, brushing the dust off of his sweaty tunic after a night of katas. He had progressed through the basics of all seven forms and was well on his way to mastery of the fifth. A few days in he had stumbled upon his safe haven, an abandoned slum of a warehouse with sturdy walls and high ceilings for training. It was slowly evolving from a dilapidated wasteland into a polished training sale and a home base for all of his business. Well all of his planning, he had to be subtle and think like Obi-Wan, not Anakin. Thinking like Anakin resulted in barging into situations blasters blazing, temporarily effective, but disastrous for his long term goals. He trusted the logic of someone whose guidance had never waivered, someone with thoughtful consideration and tact: his Master. 

Embodying Obi-Wan was stupidly easy, he knew the other man’s mind better than his own. There was a simplicity to his Master, peace, serenity, balance, home, but simplifying Obi-Wan was an outright affront to his character. Though calm and certain, Obi-Wan was a multifaceted crystal, glimmering with a myriad of fascinating layers in his iridescent depths; he was magnificent.

Closing up for the night Anakin had started on his journey back to the Temple when he felt it. A familiar force signature, an umbra of smokey twilight with playful hints of danger. He hadn’t encountered it since before his Fall. Following it briskly like a beast scenting its prey he found its source. The sight floored him, she was so young. Even now she had seen enough hardships to have Fallen. The darkside was choking her, relentless and malevolent. Asajj Ventress would never cease to surprise him. 

“You feel wrong.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You feel wrong.” Anakin repeated. “It’s like you should feel happy, but you feel lost. You feel wrong. Why?”

“Who the kriff are you? What gives you the right to come up to someone and judge them. You’re lower level scum, just like the rest of us. Of course I’m lost, you know what it’s like.” She replied, gesturing aggressively at the world. Anakin noticed a bracelet, or rather a silver padawan braid refashioned as a bracelet adorning her delicate wrist; his own was hidden with clips. Asajj had always been ripped between the two sides of the Force, but the sight gave him hope he could help her, she hadn’t fully let go of her past.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to talk to people yet, I just escaped. My old master used to make me read others. He’s a Sabacc player. He needed to get under their skin to win, I was whipped if I was wrong. I’m Ani, what’s your name?” He felt bad for lying, but he needed to sway her; he had given her his real name as a peace offering, names were valuable in the lower levels.

“Kya. I was a slave too, I’d say it gets better, but look around you. This is all we'll ever be; so deep down we couldn’t even see the light if we tried. Forgotten.” She said bitterly, kicking a piece of rock.

“I don’t believe that for a second, yeah this may suck, but we have a choice. I can choose to go sit on that shitty bench, or the one next to it. I can choose to sleep on this street, or one five levels down. And that, the things that seem like nothing, are everything. Stang! There is no one to tell us what to do, or who to follow. We are our own people, and that light is intoxicating.”

She smiled a little bit in thought, but then her expression again hardened, “What good will that do when we starve to death, or are raped in the streets. There is no hope for kids like us. Half of us will just disappear again, we don’t matter. You do what you have to do to survive.”

“Why just survive? Think about your future Kya, where do you want to be and where are you now. What do you see?” Anakin was nothing if not persistent.

“I don’t think of things I will never have. It’s a waste of my time.” She looked sad.

“You can have everything you’ve ever wanted if you’re brave enough to fill in the steps from now to then. You just have to stop being lost and start being focused.”

“How?”

“How not? There are countless paths Kya, you just have to choose one.” 

“What if I don’t know what to choose? What if I choose wrong?” She looked contemplative.

Anakin tossed her an unassuming box, “Kya, have you ever played Sabacc?” Asajj stared blankly at the deck of cards she had been given. “Learn, I will be back, and you  _ will  _ choose right. I can help, all you have to do is let me. We can make all the money we need with a simple deck of cards.” Asajj looked at him with a glimmer of hope, but it was overwhelmed by the cloud of doubt in the Force.

“How will I find you again?” She finally responded, tentatively.

“Trust yourself and trust me, we will meet again soon.” Anakin said, turning away slowly. Pausing for a second, he added over his shoulder, “Your bracelet feels right, like the real you.” He walked onwards before she could reply. 


	17. First Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a three chapter arc about Anakin's first mission as a Padawan, hope y'all like it :)

Their first mission was going really well, so that was how Anakin knew that everything would fall to shit. Anakin was incredibly lucky to have been allowed to go in the first place. It was unheard of for such a Junior Padawan to be allowed on a diplomatic mission, Anakin hadn’t even been at the Temple for two years yet.

The mission itself was simple, attend a conference on the lavish planet of Cantonica, and oversee manufacturing negotiations for expanding their nightlife scene. The Jedi rarely drifted into the Corporate Sector, but they had been specifically requested by Aristide Avner, the owner of the Canto Casino empire. He seemed to be under the impression that he could use the Jedi as hired muscle to bully manufacturing companies into settling for discounted construction rates. Obi-Wan looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself as he destroyed that notion with his silver tongue.

By the end of the first day of negotiations, Obi-Wan had persuaded all sides into a fair trade agreement, ever the diplomat. Anakin was proud of his master, Obi-Wan deserved to flex his talents, he was wasted sitting around at the Temple.

“Master” Anakin said, as they headed back to their quarters. “That was incredible, Avner looked like he wanted to strangle you on the spot.”

“Anakin I was just doing as any Jedi would. I wasn’t trying to oppose him on principle, I just had to be certain that the deals would be fair to all. If those aims happened to align, well then what was I to do about it.” Obi-Wan replied, grinning cheekily.

“He was kind of a Sleemo.” Anakin said offhand.

“Language Padawan.” There was no heat behind the statement. “Now come on, we must get our rest, the documents will be signed tomorrow and we must ensure that nothing goes wrong.” He said returning to Jedi Master mode. They entered their hotel room.

“Whatever you say Master.” Anakin winked salaciously. Obi-Wan  _ snorted, _ it was the loudest most uncivilized sound Anakin had ever heard from his Master. Anakin was in  _ hysterics  _ immediately doubling over with laughter at the indignity of it. Obi-Wan was bright red.

Eventually he looked at Anakin and stated simply, “Not a word Padawan.” 

The wink probably did look ridiculous on an eleven-year old, Anakin pondered retrospectively. But it was absolutely worth it.


	18. Double-Dealing

Walking into the negotiation rooms, it was immediately apparent that their lives had just become more difficult. The manufacturer diplomats were not present, not just late but gone, in their place was a group of Nemoidians; Trade Federation.

“Ah Master Jedis, thank you for finally joining us.” Avner grinned widely, appearing very smug. “As you can see, I decided to move forward with other candidates for my contracts, we just weren’t seeing...eye to eye with the previous ones. Fortunately, negotiations appear to be going quite smoothly, and I do believe I am no longer in need of your  _ help _ .” He finished with a flourish, as if meticulously and maniacally rehearsed.

There was a flash and Obi-Wan was on the floor, stunned. “Disarm him and give him to the Nemoidians as a” he paused “signing gift.” He smiled even wider like a toad, as if proud of his lackluster wit; Obi-Wan could talk circles around this man, Anakin fumed.

“Why thank-you Avner. I feel this is the beginning of a very profitable friendship.” One of the Nemoidians responded forebodingly.

“Bring the boy to The Center, he will learn to be a good little slave. Jedi are supposed to be smart, are they not?” Avner baited Anakin condescendingly. Anakin didn’t bite.

Guards roughly grabbed his shoulder, but he didn’t feel a thing. He had a single-minded goal: Rescue his master, and watch them pay.

They reached what he had dubbed “The Center” and they shoved Anakin roughly in a cell, there were already four kids there. The children were of varying levels of emaciation, but the real shock was their eyes. Force Anakin couldn’t even look at them, the sheer defeat that was reflected in their corneas was burned into his own. It was something he would never forget, etched into his brain as a reminder of why he chose the life of a Jedi; to help.

“Welcome to your new home little Jedi, I hope you find it accommodating.” The guard said mockingly.  _ Slam.  _ Anakin was trapped.

“You’re a Jedi? I’ve heard of the Jedi, are you going to save us?” A small boy piped up.

“No,  _ I’m _ not.” Anakin responded immediately. Looking directly at the boy, he said with absolute conviction, “You are going to save yourselves.” 

The child slavery system in Cantonica, Anakin learned, was a well oiled machine. Slaves were hidden under the guise of students, they worked for nothing because they were receiving a ‘world class education’, and were ‘free’ to leave at any time. Anakin was enraged by this front, but not surprised. Still, his priority  _ was _ saving his Master. Anakin would destroy anything in his path to Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan was worth the whole karking planet. Anakin was not attached, he wasn’t. He just...understood the implications of allowing a Jedi Knight to be captured by the Trade Federation, and had to avoid the potential fallout. Yeah, that. He wasn’t going to leave these kids with nothing though, he would do his best by them. 

The Center was twenty underground levels of cell blocks, slaves were let out when they were needed and they all had slave bracelets rather than chips. The bracelet would blow up the second that a slave escaped its range, and would also blow up another slave at random. A warning, and a message. No one tried to escape. It was one thing to condemn yourself, but another to harm others.

Luckily the guards were either stupid, or in the habit of underestimaing the power of a child. Anakin felt the hard outline of a lightsaber, hidden within his tunics; they hadn’t even bothered to check his person. And Anakin  _ had  _ bothered to disguise his own Lavender blade as a training saber, getting approval from his Master to bring it along.

At nightfall Anakin revealed his plan. “This” he ignited his glowing blade “Is our ticket out of here.” They stared in awe. “Now, I’m going to need a pretty big distraction, do you think you can handle it?”

Azemi, the boldest of the group replied “Of course we can, but what about these?” he jangled his bracelet.

Anakin had spent hours inspecting the thing. He could feel all of its mechanisms in the Force. The Cantonicians’ trump card would be their downfall, in order to blow up a second slave when the first absconded, they had made all of the bracelets interconnected. Anakin could decimate them with the Force. “Leave that to me.” he replied, eyes glinting mischievously. He would have to wait to avoid drawing attention, needing to get the cell doors open first. “I believe in every single one of you. Work together, find others, become a united front, and take back your freedom!” They looked up at him, determination in their once haunted eyes. He had done all that he could to prepare them, now it was time to rescue his Master.


	19. Who Let the Fathiers Out?

Getting to the security center was nerve-racking. Luckily, the guards were woefully unprepared for mutiny. Their unrefined blaster techniques allowed for his easy deflection of their offense. With a final flourish of his beaming blade, he reached the main console. “This is where the fun begins,” he said to his unconscious company. Hitting as many colorful buttons as he could at once, he smirked as the loudest most obnoxiously strident alarm he had ever heard blared flashing red. Red, why is it always red? Typical. Messing around with the console for a little while longer to try and trigger even more chaos, he heard footfalls. Guards blazed into the room, blasters first. Anakin yawned and slammed them all into a wall. The crunching of bones shattering made him flinch, but it's better than being bisected by a saber. He wasn’t actively trying to kill anyone, if he used a Force choke or two for old times sake, that’s no one’s business; Force choking isn’t Light or Dark, it’s just fun. Plus it’s less harmful than most of the alternatives, the Force can be quite grotesque.

After jailbreaking all of the slaves, he turned to the Force. Pulling all of its power into his wrist he annihilated his bracelet’s central processor, and the central processors of all of its counterparts. The bracelet clicked off of his wrist and fell lifelessly to the floor, echoing against the durasteel.

Obi-Wan. Anakin was panicking, Obi-Wan felt weakened in the Force. He didn’t know what he would do if something happened to his Master, but he could definitely see himself going rage-hate darkside crazy; and that scared him. Obi-Wan was 90% of what kept Anakin anchored in the light, the other 10% was sheer spite.

Anakin followed his Master’s force signature, blindly slicing down anything in his path. His senses quickly led him out of The Center, and into the grand Casino. The wealthy were panicking, running around like startled Gungans. Anakin followed the commotion and realized why. His friends had released wild animals into the establishment, Fathiers if his memory served him correctly. He laughed out loud, this was absolutely perfect, he was proud of the children. No one paid him any notice as he slipped into the main hangar. Obi-Wan was on a ship, that much he could sense. As he approached the fleet he saw the most opulent Nemoidian battle cruiser in existence, and knew it was the one. He had found his Master, and his captors were about to learn  _ exactly _ what the consequences were for harming Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Unhinged, Anakin burst into craft. He wasn’t immediately met by adversaries, but he felt them through snakey tendrils he extended in the Force. They had yet to notice his arrival. Navigating based on memories of similar ships from the Clone Wars, he headed towards the jail block.

Obi-Wan wasn’t there, he checked every single cramped metal cube, and his Master was nowhere to be found. This was wrong, he  _ felt  _ that his Master was nearby, so where was he? Sensing company, he cloaked himself in the Force.

“Did you hear they have a Jedi?” A Nemoidian in a worker’s jumpsuit said to his counterpart.

“Yes, the Viceroy had my supervisor personally bring him to the upper deck for questioning.” Jumpsuit number two responded proudly. “They drugged him good, he won’t remember a thing. Not that it matters, Jedi are too risky to ransom, he’s as good as dead any minute now.” Jumpsuit number one laughed as they continued out of sight. Anakin. Saw.  _ Red _ . 

The Viceroy was here, Nute Gunray. This was a karking setup from the beginning, he seethed. Who brings a warship and their leader to a simple trade negotiation? Someone with stanging motives other than trade. It had Sidious’ prints all over it, but unfortunately for Sidious he couldn’t be bothered to factor in Anakin. After all, he was just a poor useless Padawan who wouldn’t affect a thing.

Sidious was going to pay  _ dearly  _ for this, and Anakin knew  _ exactly  _ how. Nute Gunray wouldn’t know what hit him. Running to the upper deck, Force giving him celestial speed, Anakin was finally noticed. He slammed Nemoidians to the ground, sliced through doors, and decimated processors. His saber was but an alluring blur, beautiful and deadly. He reached the threshold and Lavender met durasteel. Scorching a circle through the entrance he erupted into the room. Anakin’s eyes glimmered in the light of his molten blade, and his expression hardened.

Taking in the scene in front of him he wanted to Fall. He wanted to Fall so he could kill each and every one of them slowly and agonizingly, subjecting their souls to excruciating eternal suffering. His Master hung suspended in chains of pure light, bruised and battered, but alive. The light that permeated from his damaged frame into the Force stopped Anakin from dipping into darkness. If he Fell, it wouldn’t matter that he saved Obi-Wan because Obi-Wan would hate him. Anakin would lose everything, Sidious would win. He took a careful breath, and centered himself. 

At the zenith of the tiered room sat Gunray in a lavish set of robes. He was surrounded by five guards dressed in deep maroon.

“Viceroy! You have something of mine, and I would like it back.” Anakin stated boldly, with the hardened voice of his past.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan whispered weakly disoriented from mind-addling narcotics. Anakin pulsed a wave of sleep and comfort over his Master, it was best he didn't see this. Obi-Wan slumped.

“A child.” Gunray laughed, the rest quickly following. “Why yes child, come here, maybe you will be more cooperative than your Master. If you help me, I’ll set you both free and no more harm will come to him.” Anakin snorted, not karking likely. 

“I’ll give you one chance, hand over my Master, or we do this the hard way.” The Nemoidians laughed again. Well, Anakin thought, hard way it is. A Force explosion flew from his body radiating like a supernova, the Nemoidian’s were immediately pinned to the walls suspended imobile. Anakin approached the Viceroy, stalking him like a manic apex predator. Anakin removed a chip from his emergency supply pouch, a hidden pocket in his inner tunic.

“Do you know what this is, Viceroy?” The Viceroy grunted unmoving. “I’ll assume that is a no.” Anakin continued, unimpressed. “This is a biochip. Do you want to know the wonderful thing about biochips?” he paused for dramatization, thoroughly enjoying himself. “The wonderful thing about biochips is that they are undetectable, they show up as benign tumors on any scan. And the wonderful thing about this particular lovely sexy beautiful biochip, is its state of the art audial capacities.” pacing theatrically, he continued, “You see Viceroy, this chip is going into you,  _ forcefully,  _ and I will be able to hear every conversation you have until the day you die. And better yet, I will even have the pleasure of hearing the sound of bugs eating your pathetic rotting corpse long after your demise. After all, I am just a child, I have an extensive life ahead of me.” He ceased his pacing and released the Nemoidian leader.

“You stupid child, you won’t get away with it. I will simply have it removed, and have you killed.” He looked terrified, but continued staring down at Anakin to maintain a semblance of dignity. Trapping him again, Anakin used the Force to shove the chip ruthlessly into his slimy wrinkled skin making sure to hit every major bundle of nerves with a pointed vengeance. The Nemoidian leader couldn’t even cry out, as Anakin had rendered him speechless. Lodged firmly in his arm, Anakin was satisfied.

“Ah but Viceroy, that’s where you're wrong. You see you aren’t going to remember this encounter, none of you are.” He turns to the crowd of Nemoidians tactfully pushing them all together. Waving his hand he states “Canonica is a worthless slum, doing business here is not worth your time. The Jedi had left before you even arrived. Something went wrong in your ship and many in your crew are experiencing hallucinations. It's probably a gas leak, so you should get back to Neimoidia fast. You should also inspect your fleet thoroughly, this will take a long time putting a stall in your current trade plans.” They fell out of their trance, confused and stumbling.

“Hey! Who are you?” a guard shouted. 

“Now sleep!” Anakin replied nonchalantly, and they dropped bodies hitting the floor with an echoing thud.

Anakin immediately rushed to his Master as if falling out of a trance, and took in his wounds. All superficial, but he agonized over the pain his Master had gone through. He wasn’t entirely satisfied with how he handled the Nemoidians, he felt they deserved far more suffering for harming Obi-Wan, but he resigned himself with the understanding that keeping a low profile was important. Plus, he now had access to the Trade Federation, this was  _ huge.  _ Hopefully soon enough he could irrefutably pin them to the Sith, and the Sith to Palpatine. The sooner Sidious was taken care of, the better. 

Pinching his Master’s lightsaber from the robes of Gunray himself, he delicately floated his Master to the hangar. Boarding their own ship Anakin sighed. He would have to deal with the fallout and the explanations later. But for now his Master was safe, and that was  _ all  _ that mattered.


	20. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHhhhhHH, I'm sorry I suck. I've been SO busy with school lately, but I'm finally back on track with this fic. I was going to wait until I had finished this really fun plot arc I'm working on right now before I posted anything, but then I realized that this chapter is kind of a standalone so I can post it earlier :) I have three additional chapters essentially done (my google doc says I've hit 20000 words which is insane!), but I'm going to post those after I finish the aforementioned plot arc for synthesis' sake. Hope everyone is doing well and thriving in quarantine. As always, thanks so much for reading, I appreciate and love you all XOXO

Anakin’s astronavigation class was kriffing boring, he thought, as he doodled his fourth starfighter in the margin of his textbook. After his first mission, his life was re-aligning itself into a semblance of normalcy. The fallout was mind-bogglingly nonexistent; the extent that children were overlooked in the galaxy never ceased to amaze Anakin. Cantonica didn’t connect the uprising to the young Jedi. Avner simply assumed that the Nemoidians withdrew due to the turmoil of the revolt. Even the council fed into Anakin’s utter bantha-turd of an explanation. “Reasonable this seems, young Skywalker. Dismissed you are.” Was the only comment on the matter. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was just confused, lost and confused --his master really deserved a break. 

Anakin had explained to the Jedi that the Cantonicians had cloaked the city in a hallucinogenic gas to halt the rebellion. Anakin had been spared as Obi-Wan had told him to wait in the ship; the ship that had gas masks. The young Padawan had wanted to help, really, but he was just a child. Plus, his Master, upon returning to the ship, was acting loopy and nonsensical. Instead of inquiring further, Anakin had simply taken them back to Coruscant so his Master could see the healers. Eventually even Obi-Wan came to begrudgingly accept this, and life moved on.

The true gains of his bold endeavours had been priceless. Sparing the lives of the Nemoidians was invaluable in Anakin’s pursuit against Sidious. He had set up a complicated force filter of sorts. The biochip feedback flowed directly into his auditory system, a feat of engineering only a Skywalker could achieve. His force signature then analyzed the chatter for valuable intel, and sorted it into a secure pocket of his mind crafted under his shields. It was safest this way: no one could intercept the knowledge if it went directly into Anakin’s own head. It was also lonely. He felt the burden of the entire galaxy resting heavily on his jaded shoulders. No one else understood his struggle, and no one ever would. He longed to confide in others, even just one other, but he knew he couldn’t.  _ Everything _ depended on his success.

The crippling stress had bled through into his shields, Obi-Wan had sensed something. Anakin didn’t know the exact extent that his Master grasped his emotions, but the bond they shared was truly unique --something was bound to slip through. Obi-Wan had taken to worrying over his Padawan. He had been following him around like a concerned mother, making sure Anakin was eating, encouraging his progress, asking him about his day. It was endearing, really, he radiated warmth into Anakin’s cold existence, and Anakin cherished the moments they spent together. But it was also suffocating, Anakin needed time to save the galaxy, and that time involved being alone, being lonely. He didn’t deserve to indulge in happiness when the freedom of trillions was at stake, he was simply a weapon of the Force, a vessel for its balance. Soon, something would have to change --for force’s sake, he could feel his Master’s signature immediately past the threshold of the classroom awaiting his Padawan's dismissal. 

“Your charts on triangulation must be complete and scaled to a precision of 1E-6 degrees accuracy next Benduday. I expect you to measure the parsecs by hand and take into account the parallax as a method of higher accuracy for relatively close stars. Remember, binary systems are tricky because their gravitation has an additional angular component. You have been assigned two of these systems; proceed carefully. Now Skywalker, why is all of this important?” Asked an exhausted Mace Windu. He could definitely tell Anakin hadn’t contributed one singular brain cell of attention. Yet Windu also knew, begrudgingly, that Anakin excelled at astronavigation. The Master probably wanted a quick coherent answer so they could all leave for the week. Anakin sympathized, and provided.

“In essence, one botched calculation or misinterpreted star could lead to disaster. Hyperspace demands accuracy; if a calculation is not perfect, you will be spit out lightyears from your intended location. Worse you will collide into a mass at lethal speeds scattering your atoms across the universe into oblivion.” Anakin replied cheekily.

“Quite the dramatic take, but correct young Skywalker. Dismissed.” Windu said rolling his eyes. The Korun Jedi was one of the biggest surprises of Anakin’s second life. They had achieved a mutual respect of sorts --or at least as much respect as a Council Member and Padawan could boast-- Anakin’s quick dangerous humor was on par with the Master of Vaapad’s sarcastic repertoire. He hoped that their interactions could grow over time. He truly was an amazing swordsman, if Anakin could convince him to train more, to strive for better, he would be a formidable ally in a duel against Sidious. Anakin mulled over this as he left the classroom, his brain seemed to only have two settings these days: attempt to synthesize all of his planning, and shutdown in a panic because of all of his planning. 

Up ahead Obi-Wan spotted him, and with a frustratingly caring voice he stated, “Padawan when was the last time you ate? You look tired, maybe I should take you to the healers. Or we could meditate, I’ve been sensing that you are unsettled lately. Is there anything you’d like to discuss with me? I’m always here if you’re having troubles. How did your classes go? I went to the archives and found some books that you may find useful for your galactic history essay.” Taking a deep  _ deep  _ breath Anakin mentally prepared himself for the rest of his day with one over-protective and wholly oblivious Jedi Master.


	21. You Are a Bold One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am stupidly excited to post these chapters, because they have been an absolute joy to write this week. I've honestly had so much fun. So here's the next arc in our story, its four chapters long with a little cliffhanger for you ;) Also someone should tell me if I should bump this fic up to an M or not, I feel like some of the themes are kind of borderline, and I'd really like some opinions on whether I should leave it/move it. As always, thank-you all for reading ILY and I hope you are thriving. Sending good energy and happy thoughts your way :)

Anakin had a lead. He hadn’t told  _ her  _ about it, she thought today was the same as all others, but it wasn’t. It was much more than that

Rolling down to the lower levels decked out in Coruscanti high fashion turned some heads, but years of stealth training paid off. Anakin Skywalker slipped into the shadows. He entered his home base where she was waiting.

“What took you so long,” Asajj Ventress complained.

“Awww you miss me?” Anakin batted his eyelashes dramatically and dodged an unknown projectile thrown quite precisely towards his head. Ventress scowled at him, her eyes like daggers but blunt. There was never any fire in their jest 

“You wish Skywalker, some of us have things to do and can’t wait for dead weight, such as yourself, to show up.” She inspected her sharpened nails with a feigned air of indifference.

It had taken a few rough years, and many violent misunderstandings (Anakin’s arm  _ still  _ hadn’t recovered, who knew rotten fruit could inflict so much damage?), but there was a tentative layer of trust and respect between the two. Both still held crucial secrets, and neither believed the other at face value, yet amongst it all a hesitant friendship had formed. She had even entrusted him with her true name. 

Anakin repaid the earlier interaction by lobbing a discrete pack at her head. “Put these on so we blend in, starting bids begin in an hour so we need to hurry.” Asajj scowled at being bossed around, but left to go change into her disguise. Anakin himself was wearing a powerful ensemble. Deep black velvet robes meticulously tailored to his adolescent frame paired with a dramatic cape of a lighter Corellian silk. His eyes were lined with kohl and his face was covered with an iridescent mask, almost reptilian in nature. People in the lower levels didn’t tend to ask questions, they knew better, but Anakin needed to be exceptionally careful. Not even Asajj knew he was a Jedi, his face couldn’t get out. The disguises held a dual purpose, as the duo tried their best to look older with them. No one wanted to lose money to a mere child --and lose their money they would.

Asajj re-emerged in a similar getup, Padawan braid still on her wrist. She had never brought up her past, Anakin never asked. Opening his bag Anakin revealed the finishing touches. Two blasters accompanied with arm holsters, and an assortment of Sabacc cards to be attached to various parts of their bodies --Anakin never claimed to play fair.

Together, they were quickly gaining notoriety within the gambling underworld. The Phantom and the Menace lived up to their names. Anakin would quietly and coldy claim victory over even the most seasoned players. He never lingered however, and the players had hazy recollections of their time with him. All they did remember was the sheer amount of credits they had lost. He preferred it this way, he was simply a shade, unseen, unheard, and unparalleled. Asajj was a blunt force of nature; her youth led to an incessant and impatient desire to win. She would hop from table to table gaining little by little with every move. She was never as devastating as Anakin, but was simply an inconvenient thorn in the side of her competitors. Anakin was happy with this arrangement, he could keep an eye on her, and she had yet to reach the caliber of skill that would promote self-endangerment.

“Alright Asajj lets go over the plan one more time, this is new turf so we need to be careful.” Kriff, Anakin felt like a stuffy old Jedi Master, but she _was_ truly his responsibility even if she didn’t know it. He was bringing a literal child into a literal nightclub. Sometimes he really _really_ wondered how Ahsoka ended up alive, not permanently damaged, and actually quite put together. He should never be trusted with the well-being of others, except maybe Obi-Wan --but that was different. “ _Why is it different?”_ his brain asked unhelpfully. He declined to answer his brain, and returned to the present.

“We’re going to be fiiiine. If there are any problems, just shoot first and run second.” Honestly this didn’t seem like a bad plan Anakin thought, but he needed to be an adult. He was not very good at being an adult given that he was enslaved for nearly the entirety of his adult life which led to little to no exposure to making his own reasonable adult decisions, but he had to try.

“Asajj, I’m serious. Today is different, this club is known for disappearances and ‘aggressive disagreements’. We need to be careful, and we need to stick to the plan. So, tell me the plan again.” Asajj rolled her eyes, but seemed to realize he wasn’t gonna deal with her shit.

“Enter together to establish that we are a united front, and play a warm-up round. Buy drinks so people think we are intoxicated, but dump them for water. You go to the fancy table and steal all their money, I go to the normal tables and steal some of their money. Leave.” 

“Perfect, lets go.” Anakin supplied. In his head, however, he added:  _ “Find Dooku and the other high profile Separatists and collect evidence at all costs.” _ He heightened his bio-chip feedback, now was not the time to let anything crucial slip. This was the first time the Separatists had coalesced in the dregs of Coruscant, and Anakin wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.


	22. Sabacc Starter

Advertisements everywhere boasted “the Sabacc gathering of the galactic rotation”. The infamous Outlander Club was known for its ability to cater to all of the nefarious factions of society, from the elite, to the scum. Tonight, it was magnificent and selective; only those with funds to show would be granted entry. Walking down the streets approaching its edifice one encountered a slew of substance dealers and street vendors. Iridescent bottles promising viscous luck and bubbly fortune, food marked up exorbitantly advertised enticingly as superior to all else. Everywhere was ablaze with colorful decorations and signs. Coruscant burned with auras of sentients yearning to escape the purgatory of poverty. Tonight there was hope, the wealthy would be in the presence of the masses, and the masses would stop at nothing to gain the attention of benefactors. As the powerful glided past the powerless, they converged on the Outlander Club. 

Certain elite had a duality in store, a veiled purpose. Sabacc was a perfect diversion, an ideal front for a meeting of officials who didn’t wish to display their allegiances.

Phantom and Menace sauntered powerfully down the avenue, displaying no weakness, ignoring all others.

“Would you like to buy a lucky loth cat?”

“Madame may I interest you in liquid victory?”

“Bantha on a stick!!! Bantha on a stick!!! Better than regular Bantha because it’s Bantha on a stick!!!” Anakin’s heart ached for these people. He yearned to help them; Phantom continued on, he had one purpose and one purpose only: Take down the Separatists at all costs.

“Cover fee one-thousand credits” a burly bouncer grunted, “each” he said staring pointedly at them both in turn. Anakin hastily covered the fee with a glare and entered accompanied by a dramatic whip of his cape. 

“That cover fee was insane, why didn’t you argue him down. I could’ve done it.” Asajj grumbled.

“Because Menace, we don’t need the attention, and we will earn it back in minutes.” She continued to groan as they reached the registration booth, but seemed to resign herself to let him take the lead. After all, Anakin had been a Sabacc slave, he was still the more experienced one even if he was younger.

“I’d like to buy 1,000,000 credits worth of chips”

“Do you have the money to back it up?” said a financial regulator who paralleled his bouncer counterpart in the intimidation department.

Anakin gave the man his best unhinged murder glare flashing one of his eyes a molten Sith gold for effect. “Do you doubt me? Ha,  _ me _ of all people. Why you clueless creature, you’re lucky that this is such a fine establishment --as we wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would we?” His maniacal grin remained concealed within his mask, but he drew the man in with his hypnotic gaze. “Fortunately for you, I have no desire to ruin my nice Corellian silks with the blood of scum, so a bounty will have to suffice.” He stated as if they were simply discussing the weather, a dangerous air of boredom accompanied his theatrical presentation. The hired muscle looked terrified. This was Phantom, extortionist extraordinaire, and mask of Anakin Skywalker. “If you expedite the process I may remove the bounty on your dim-witted head. It would be such a shame to die over a simple...misunderstanding.” His entrapping eyes promised his word, the man gulped.

“Of course Sir, my deepest apologies” his voice wavered. “Here Sir are your credits Sir, and here are two complementary VIP cards. A fine couple such as yourselves deserve the full Outlander experience. Have a wonderful night Sir.” He practically threw the materials at Anakin without collecting a single credit from the Padawan, and hastily retreated behind the durasteel barricade. Asajj looked playfully dangerous, snatching a VIP card with a flourish.

“Couple huh, didn’t know you swung that way  _ Phantom _ .” She smirked. 

“I don-, hey wha-, how did yo-.” He sighed and took a breath, “just get to work  _ Menace,”  _ Anakin finally mustered, resigned, free of the usual collected demeanor of Phantom. She laughed at his face, there was nothing Asajj enjoyed more than having a one up on Anakin. He didn’t even want to know how she had drawn that not entirely incorrect conclusion. They  _ never _ talked about their personal lives. I mean sure he mentioned Obi-Wan and some of his other training in passing, but never directly in connection to the Jedi. And all that had nothing to do with romance, it was just his boring daily life, right? Plus, it’s not like he could be involved with anyone. He had this casual mission going on to save all sentient life in the universe. Tabling the line of inquiry indefinitely, he decided that she was just frustratingly perceptive, and liked to win.

“Let’s go warm-up, pick a color.”

“Black.” Asajj deadpanned.

“Jhabacc it is.” He responded sarcastically. They proceeded to a table cloaked in black lighting and surrounded by the bantha fodder of the elite. Jhabacc was a great place to earn big which is why it caught the eye of many inexperienced players. What their dim-witted brains failed to comprehend is that credits didn’t materialize from thin air. Other idiots had to lose them in order for one to gain them; simple economics. The best offense for this variation of Sabacc was a durasteel defense --something Asajj was taking to like a krayt dragon in the suns. Anakin simply observed her wrath. He blinked occasionally to signal strategy, but largely left her to her own agency. By the end of the hour Asajj had doubled her starting bid of 100,000 simply by playing it safe. He proudly tapped her to regroup, and they found a spot of seclusion.

“Excellent job Menace, I want you to go to the purple tables and the red tables for the rest of the night. Stick to your strengths and comm me if you get into trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah Phantom, not like you’re pulling your weight right now anyways. How effective was standing around watching me win?”

“Enough Menace, we have a job, get a drink and go!”

Anakin melted into the shadows. Now, he thought, this is where the fun begins.


	23. Repulsive Reconnaissance

Entering the VIP section brought Anakin a sense of ease. He had spent decades at the apex of society, and could easily blend into its aristocracy. He walked around slowly draping gloved hands casually on corners and walkways. All of his movements were craftily calculated to the highest degree.

“-Lord Tyrannus, my ship has landed, I will reach the conference room at 2300.” The biochip interrupted his scouting. Anakin smiled, it looked like his job had just gotten a lot easier. A neon holo read 2207, he had time.

Removing his hand from a busy corner, the recording chip remained stuck to the paneling. He continued. Anakin’s previous knowledge of the establishment was hazy, but he knew that the conference rooms were on the restricted floors of the VIP section intermingled with ‘luxury rooms’. He grimaced at what he had to do.

It’s facade was gaudy, but tucked away in a corner of the VIP lounge. It was both subtle and persistent with neon pink and green lights illuminating its...merchandise. Anakin approached the most expensive of the lot, a curvy Twi’lek with enticing iridescent purple skin and mesmerizing forest eyes --Anakin was repulsed on principle. Shoving his distaste deep into the Force he ignored her with intent, speaking only to her burly handler. “I want her for the whole night, and I want-” he paused, “- _ all  _ of the add-ons. She better behave, I’m not paying premium for a broken whore.” he stated with a glint in his eye. 

“She’ll behave, that’s 75000 credits and a 10000 deposit in case you irreparably damage the bitch. My policy is no marks that will last longer than a week, and no refunds. Do we have a deal?”

“We do.” Anakin parted with a stack of credits.

“Here's your card for the night.” The handler passed him a translucent platinum square. “This gives you access to the upper VIP levels. They have a wide array of rooms for whatever journey you desire.” He added with a smirk. “Open rooms will glow blue and you simply place your card in the holder to enter, occupied rooms glow orange. The right wing of the top floor is for conferences, those doors are green and red so you will be able to tell if you get lost. There are plaques on the outside of every room telling you their contents; the All-Tied-Up room, Jedi-Temple room, and Lingerie-Lair room are our biggest crowd pleasers, but there are 37 fantasy options awaiting you.” Anakin repressed the urge to vomit. He wasn’t even going to  _ start  _ on how he felt about the Jedi being sexualized like that. He was thoroughly disgusted.

“Perfect, thank-you for your...enlightening introduction.” He turned coldly to the Twi’lek, “Whore, this way.” She looked defeated, life as a pleasure-slave was an awful one, and he felt horrible for the young woman. At least, he thought, she would be spared from the grimy hands of repulsive men for one night. Leading her to the lift, he flashed his card at the guards, and they immediately parted. 

Weaving through the maze-like levels, he pulled her into the Jedi-Temple room. Another small victory, he thought sarcastically, no one would be able to desecrate the Jedi tonight. His heart  _ stopped _ when he saw the contents. He needed to burn his eyes. His eyeballs needed to be removed from his body effective  _ immediately.  _ Who needed vision? Not Anakin, he also decidedly didn’t need short-term memory, nope, kriff that. It was an utterly unnecessary biological feature. He would  _ never  _ be able to unsee it, it was burned into his very existence... _ those  _ versions of Mace Windu and Yoda stared into his soul.

The room was the most unsettling sight he had ever encountered, and he had lived a whole life as a Sith Lord. It was a crude recreation of the Jedi council-room, complete with inaccurate and erotic holo-replicas of the current council members. --He thanked  _ the Force _ that Obi-Wan wasn’t a councilor yet. He didn’t think he would  _ ever _ be able to look the man in the eyes again if his crudely sexualized figure had also been here, alone, with Anakin, and a nearly naked Twi’lek sex-slave.-- In the center of the ring of councillors lay a giant bed. Colorful amendments to the Jedi Code were listed on the ceiling and were...physically astounding; the Force did  _ not  _ work that way, not even a  _ Jedi _ is that flexible. In a corner there was an array of costume Jedi-robes, and an assortment of very creative interpretations of lightsabers and their uses. Maybe he could convince his brain to mind-trick itself. Yeah, that was a good plan. Death was also an option, a solid, reasonable, admirable option.

Phasing back into reality, Anakin let his facade drop, he turned to the woman, and tied to ignore the room. “You can stay here for the night alone. Please lie down.” She obliged, but her confusion radiated into the Force. Anakin continued with a wave of his hand, “Tonight was like any other night. You will report back to your handler when you wake stating nothing out of the ordinary happened.”

“Today is like any other night. I will report back to my handler that nothing out of the ordinary happened.”

“Good, now sleep.” She was out in seconds.

Anakin immediately left the room which was now glowing orange. He hastily pulled the shadows towards his signature, no one would see or feel him unless they were explicitly looking. Green and red glows alit the corridor ahead, and his chrono read 2232. Anakin spread into the Force searching for signatures, but sensing nothing. Smirking, he got to work. He knew that the meeting would contain five officials: the Viceroy, Tyrannus, a banking clan representative, and two Seperatist politicians. He immediately eliminated the large meeting rooms. He was looking for a smaller setting, one marked as occupied, and one that wouldn’t be overheard. Three remained. The plaques read “Sabbacoholics of Coruscant”, “Ewan’s 50th”, and simply “Reserved: Do NOT Enter.” Well, it looked like Anakin had found his room, and the Separatists had yet to find a singular drop of creativity. 

The room was simple. All black with a central conference table, high panelling, and sparse industrial lighting. Anakin had it discreetly bugged in a minute. Turning to leave, he sensed a presence approaching, fast. Cursing like a smuggler at gunpoint, he ripped apart a wall panel with the Force, jumped into the slim gap it provided, and reattached it. Karking kriffing karabast, this was  _ not  _ part of the plan.

Anakin was alone, in a wall, with a discount Sith Lord having just arrived on the other side, great. He sighed and regrouped, the meeting couldn’t possibly last that long, and Asajj would be perfectly capable alone for another few hours. Everything would be just fine.


	24. Lots of Falling

The attendees had arrived, and pleasantries along with threats permeated through the wall. Even evil bureaucracy sucked, Anakin knew this firsthand, but it never ceased to astound him just how dry it could be. His eyes started to glaze over after the fifteenth consecutive minute of arguing over upholstery choices within evil starships. Kark this, his bugs would record it all, him being in the wall was just ‘superfluous’ as Obi-Wan would say. Plus, he was really looking forward to sitting down with a nice heavy pour of...bantha milk, yeah, bantha milk, and watching it all unfold later in the comfort of this bed. But no, he had to be stuck in a kriffing wall.

“-production of the second generation of droids in our three factories with aspirations to amass total units of 5,000,000; these factories on Mustafar, Nal Hutta, and Geonosis are firmly out of the Republic eye. The question I propose is do we need larger production allotments, say new factories?” A Nemoidian accent relayed.

“Unfortunately, I must insist that we table further construction and focus on our fleet. My Master Sidious has been...dissatisfied with the preliminary success rates of the battle droids, and seeks to invest our energy in weaponry and ships.” The Count of Serrano responded coolly.

“All in favor say aye.” Another seperatist stated. A chorus of aye’s led to an in depth discussion of resource allocation and Anakin zoned out. His legs were starting to fall asleep, and he was annoyed.

“BEEP! BEEP!” Anakin’s soul left his body. He was officially the worst stealth operative in the history of all stealth operatives. This was more embarrassing than when Obi-Wan and he had gotten the ‘Chancellor of the Republic’ caught in a ray shield. What idiot didn’t check to see if their karking comm was on silent before eavesdropping on a super secret enemy meeting. Anakin's face smacked the palm of his hand, he sighed and braced himself for the chaos.

“What was that?”

“Are we being followed?”

“Who’s there?”

“It came from the wall!”

“Step aside, I will handle this.” The unmistakable booming Serrano accent bled through the wall. Anakin audibly gulped. _RrriiiiPPppsshhhHH_ , the panel next to Anakin’s face was swiftly freed from existence. Looking around Anakin realized that he was backed into a corner. The only way to leave was through the hole in the wall created by Dooku. Bracing himself to run, he took a subtly force-assisted leap of the hole and directly...onto his face. Legs tingling, Anakin looked up at the bewildered expressions of five irate Separatists. His only thought was ‘so that’s what Grievous looked like before the surgery’.

Talking directly out of his ass, Anakin stated jovially to his audience, “Hello there. Sorry for the disruption, as you can see I lost a, umm, bet and was placed in a wall. Yeah haha, take it from me, do _not_ combine Twi’lek liquor and strip Sabacc. Thank-you so much for helping me out of my wall, I’ll just be on my way.” He moved to rise, legs slightly more cooperative.

“Take one step and you die.” Said Grievous. So it was gonna be like _that_ , great.

“Okayyy, not stepping, feet are not moving, just standing up.” Anakin stood and faced Dooku, knowing he was the greatest threat.

“Kill him.” Gunray ordered, “he heard too much.”

“WHAT!” Anakin feigned astonishment, “Heard too much? Listen Sir, I didn’t understand one word of what you were talking about aside from your interior decoration choices; love the purple theme by the way, great decision, I was really rooting for it. The red would’ve been too-”

“Enough!” Anakin was cut off, “Seize him!” Said Gurnay. The singular guard accompaniment moved forward.

“Alright, this was fun, but I really need to go.” All of the lights exploded plunging the small interior room into darkness. Slipping further into the Force, he ran like a Blurrg.

“He’s a Force User!” Anakin heard behind him.

“JEDI!” Another voice screamed. Heavy footfalls followed his retreat. Anakin rushed to the center of the top floor which boasted a grand balcony overlooking the bustling lobby. Chancing a look behind him, he paled, the Separatists were gaining with Grievous at their helm. Karking kark podoo, he took a deep breath, and jumped. This was not going to be the subtle recon he had hoped for.

Screams of terror and excitement preceded his landing. Anakin glided magnificently through the air coming to a halt near the registration booth. The financial regulator from earlier stared at him in shock. 

“Wow, that was so wizard man.” A spiced-out patron said to him. Anakin looked up, the Separatists hadn’t followed. He hadn’t expected them to, the only capable of survival was Dooku, but he needed to keep a low profile. Anakin wasn’t naive, however, he knew how much money they had --they could do anything. The club would be shut down, and he would be tracked down; soon. He hastily checked the source of his headache to make sure Asajj wasn’t in any danger. He had two messages:

::Receive Transmission 0134 Standard

From Knight Kenobi: Anakin Skywalker, where the blazes are you! It is one-thirty standard.

End Transmission::

::Receive Transmission 0142 Standard

From Knight Kenobi: THE CORUSCANTI UNDERWORLD, BY THE STARS ANAKIN WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!!! I AM ON MY WAY, STAY PUT.

End Transmission::

Kark, he had been so caught up with his plot to bug the Separatists that he had forgotten to put a kriffing sleep suggestion on his Master. And worse, his cautionary tracker had betrayed him. He was not looking forward to the inevitable conversation with his Master; dying painfully at the hand of Separatists was better than Obi-Wan’s disappointed face. Ugh, he needed to find Asajj, and _fast_. 

Absolutely sprinting, Anakin neared the purple tables. No luck. Crossing the threshold to a smaller room filled with a mellow incense he spotted her at a red table talking to a Zabrak. 

“Menacceee!!!” He clamored like an absolute madman, out of breath and still running towards her. “We’re leaving, NOW!” She turned to him looking annoyed, but seemed to quickly read his face. Without even glancing back at her conversant she started running towards the cash-out booth.

“Well, hurry up then.” She truly was one of the best friends Anakin could ask for.

“No, no time. I’ll come back later and cash us out. We have to go.” Anakin continued to run to the door, Asajj close at his heels. They erupted out of the club like a force of nature. “Keep running and don’t look back Asajj! Get to the safe house, leave me if you have to, I’ll explain everything eventually, I promise.”

“Yeah, you will explain, because you’re delusional if you think you’re not coming with me.” Anakin sighed and tried to think of a way out. Obi-Wan would be here soon, the _Separatists_ would be here soon. This was not good. He needed to get _her_ to safety, intercept _him_ , and not be intercepted by _them_.

Anakin bumped into something. That something grabbed his wrist firmly, but gently. Looking up at the something he immediately paled, and gulped.

“Anakin Skywalker.” Obi-Wan said, calmly.


	25. Explain Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought this was going to be the most impossible chapter in existence to write, but then I got tequila drunk and tequila makes me emotional, so the words practically flew together. Fortunately I managed to edit sober, and OMG this is the longest chapter in existence, but I really do like how it ended up coming together. As always, love you all and stay safe!

Thinking on his feet, Anakin locked eyes with his Master, their joined gaze was intense, yet Anakin felt soothed by it. “Trust me.” Anakin whispered softly, pushing unwavering faith into the Force like a breath. Obi-Wan’s signature moved forward tentatively, seeking understanding and curling around its other half, subconsciously, like an embrace. “We need to run!” That was all that had to be said. Their souls had spoken what their words had not. Anakin  _ knew  _ that Obi-Wan would follow him blindly just as clearly as he  _ knew _ that his Master would demand an explanation once they reached safety --the Force had whispered these soft truths like a lullaby, and they were Jedi.

“I have a speeder three blocks ahead, quickly!” Obi-Wan boomed, in full-Jedi mode.

“Asajj, please come with. You can trust me!” Anakin practically begged his other companion who had stopped to witness the brief interaction. She was his only friend in this lifetime, and he couldn’t bear it if she faced harm due to his actions. Her expression was unreadable, and she was fingering her bracelet.

“If you get me killed Skywalker it will be the last thing you ever do!” Her voice wavered slightly, something was wrong, but Anakin had no time to dwell on it. The trio sprinted onwards --Obi-Wan swift and collected like a trained Fathier, Anakin chaotic and disastrous like a wild Gundark, and Asajj...subdued.

Approaching the speeder Anakin force-leapt into the cockpit and immediately started the engine. Obi-Wan raised a brow unimpressed, but allowed his Padawan to drive.

They reached the safe-house and stashed the speeder. Obi-Wan looked like he was about to reject the contents of his stomach, and Asajj gave him a well placed death glare; Anakin’s driving  _ was _ justified, really. Because of its  _ strategic methodology _ he didn’t sense any tails. Regardless, he remained chalk-full of adrenaline, buzzing and unable to calm down. Finally arriving in the main room, he turned to his companions and began to pace. “Okay” he started, not remotely wanting to start, or knowing how to start, but it was a start. “I owe both of you an explanation, and I umm will explain. Ummm, so basical-”

Obi-Wan interrupted, “Anakin I have a feeling that this will take awhile. Why don’t you collect your thoughts and breathe. I will make us all some tea, and we will discuss what happened today in a calm, coherent, and civilized manner.” He regally retreated into the tiny kitchen, and Anakin sighed in relief, tension he was holding in his shoulders dissipated. How did Obi-Wan know everything? The man was so in-tune with Anakin that sometimes it felt as if they were one entity. Obi-Wan stupidly considerate, even in adverse situations; Anakin didn’t deserve it. His Master understood there was a tension between the teenagers, and had extricated himself from the equation to allow Anakin time to solve the problem. 

Asajj jumped on this reprieve, “You’re a Jedi.” She stated as a fact, her voice gave away  _ nothing _ . 

Anakin knew that this would be the most important conversation of their friendship, and he  _ would _ fight for that friendship. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I am your friend. Pasts are painful, and the reasons I am a Jedi are difficult for me to talk about. That isn’t an excuse though. I am sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier, I sensed your Force sensitivity, I just didn’t want to cause either of us pain. I wanted to help you.” Anakin said earnestly.

“Help me? I don’t need help! I was doing fine on my own without a  _ Jedi _ interfering! Is everything you told me a lie?” Asajj replied frostily. 

“No, on the contrary, everything I have told you is true, at least in a way. Our friendship is also true, I care about you Asajj, you’re my best friend.” Anakin stated clearly, with an edge of desperation.

“How can we be friends? I’m a darksider, a sworn enemy of the Jedi. I’m Fallen.” She looked sad.

“Search yourself, you are on the right path. Everytime I see you you grow lighter. When I met you you  _ were _ lost. Now, you have a future. You fought for it, and you continue to fight for it. Every day you push back on the dark. Your future may be light, your future may be gray --what matters is it’s yours. You are in control. The dark doesn’t suffocate you anymore, you have learned that only pain comes from it. You are not my enemy, you are my friend.” Anakin proclaimed with conviction.

“I don’t know if I can trust you Anakin. I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Don’t trust me, trust the Force, it will guide you.” He paused in thought, “Hi, my name is Anakin Skywalker. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I hope we can start over. I was born on Tatooine in the outer-rim to Shmi Skywalker. I was a slave for nine years until I won my freedom in a pod-race, and was taken to become a Jedi by Master Qui-Gon Jinn. He passed into the Force, so his newly Knighted Padawan was forced to take me instead.” Anakin felt a flash of hurt across his training bond, so slight that he wasn’t sure that he didn’t imagine it. Obi-Wan re-entered the room carrying tea, Anakin looked up at him, his expression was unreadable. Turning back to Asajj he said “Asajj Ventress, I would like to introduce you to my Jedi Master, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“It is nice to meet you Knight Kenobi” turning to Anakin she continued, “It’s nice to meet you as well Padawan Skywalker.” She was smiling softly. They weren’t okay yet, but he thought, hesitantly, that they would be.

Obi-Wan did not comment on the strange introduction, but replied “It is an honor to meet you as well Padawan Ventress.” Asajj’s eyes widened in shock, but it wasn’t the malicious kind. She seemed to sink into her thoughts, fingering her bracelet once more. Obi-Wan continued, “Now, Anakin Skywalker, explain yourself immediately.” He pointedly took a sip of his tea, and crossed his legs, staring down his apprentice. In any other situation Anakin would have laughed at his Master’s mannerisms; now however, he simply wanted to survive this interaction.

He did not want to lie to Obi-Wan, not if he could help it. He vowed to tell his Master what he could, and taking a deep breath, he began: “Asajj and I are Sabacc players, and honestly Master, we're pretty good. Today I got in over my head and some other people were after me because of my actions. I didn’t want them to know I was a Jedi, and I didn’t want Asajj to get hurt for being associated with me, so we ran.” Anakin knew this wasn’t good enough, but less was more in this case. He would answer any questions Obi-Wan had, but not reveal anything willingly. Obi-Wan gave him a look that  _ screamed _ ‘I am thoroughly unimpressed with that response and we are so not done here yet’.

“How did you get down to the lower levels unnoticed?” Obi-Wan asked calmly.

“I snuck out of the Temple.”

“Cut the bantha-kark Anakin,  _ how _ ?” He snapped. Shit, Obi-Wan never swore, his initial plan wasn’t going to work.

Switching imperial interrogation defense tactics, he elaborated, “I have a path that goes from the vent in my room to the sewers which lead to the lower levels.” Obi-Wan looked slightly repulsed, but that was overpowered by his shock. He appeared to be speechless at the depth of his Padawan’s ingenuity. 

Finally he stated, “How often do you play Sabacc?”

“Once a week usually.” The truth, but a loophole. He did only play Sabacc once a week, but he ventured to the lower levels almost nightly.

“How long have you been playing?”

“Around a year.” This was also true, the first year and a half he had simply been training Asajj in the game. She had been looking at him thoroughly unimpressed throughout the interrogation, but her lips remained sealed. Anakin thanked the Force for small mercies. 

“Why?” Anakin was thrown off by this question. He  _ couldn’t  _ answer it truthfully, and this pained him. He could, however, give his Master an answer, one that was close to his heart and would have been true in another life.

“Well it started because I wanted to free my mom, I know attachments are wrong, but I couldn’t stand doing nothing. I knew I could help her, so I vowed to do so instead of leaving her enslaved. Over time, I realized that I could do a lot of good. I could free more than just her, I could help others. I could make a difference.” Obi-Wan looked crestfallen, like he truly felt for Anakin’s emotions --even though they were against the code. There were other emotions leaking across the bond, but Anakin couldn’t place them.

“Oh Anakin. I hadn’t realized what you were going through, and that is a failing of my own. You did not feel that you could come to me with your troubles, and for that I take full responsibility.” Anakin had very strong opinions about the verity of those statements, but refrained from interrupting his Master due to how delicate the situation was. “Young one, your heart is in the right place. I understand the desire to free your mother, and the desire to help, it is the Jedi way; I don’t think you are blinded out of love for your mother, but rather a duty to do what is right. But Anakin, you need to use your head. You are thirteen years old, and what you have been doing, both of you,” he looked pointedly at Asajj for the first time in his speech, “is immensely dangerous. You are young Force sensitives in a place that is unsafe for everyone, you  _ especially _ . Many nefarious sentients seek out sensitives like yourselves for their own gain whether it be selling you at a premium into slavery or taking your head as a trophy. That would be devastating. You have full lives ahead of you, and you can do good in so many other ways.” Obi-Wan looked devastated, and Anakin  _ understood _ . The emotions from earlier were loss and betrayal. For some reason, his Master felt a sense of duty towards Anakin, one further than just their apprenticeship. He didn’t want to lose him, and felt betrayed by Anakin’s lack of transparency. Anakin didn’t know what to think of this realization.

“I understand Master, and I’m sorry.” Anakin replied with honesty. He really did grasp where his Master was coming from. If Ahsoka had pulled something like this he would have skinned her alive; in reality Obi-Wan’s reaction so far had been quite mellow. It just frustrated Anakin because he  _ knew _ that he was one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. He didn’t have anything to fear. He also knew that if Obi-Wan somehow stopped him from coming to the lower levels, Asajj could get into  _ actual _ danger, and his lightsaber skills would atrophy. He couldn’t fault his Master though. Obi-Wan had no way of knowing, and he was just doing his best.

“Come here Padawan.” Obi-Wan gestured for Anakin to sit next to him. Anakin walked over, confused, only for his Master to draw him into a hug; Anakin was surprised, but it felt right. Warmth radiated through their bond. At that moment something shifted, and Anakin knew everything was going to be fixable. Their bond would never be the same, but it would be different, not inferior.

“I’m sorry Master.” Anakin repeated.

“It’s okay young one, you are safe now, and that is all that matters.” They broke from their embrace. “Now, let us discuss how to proceed,” He looked at Anakin, who had relaxed against his side, and then Asajj in turn, as equals, “Once a month.” He paused.

“Once a month what?” Anakin replied, genuinely confused.

“Once a month I will accompany the pair of you to a Sabacc hall of  _ my  _ choice or  _ my  _ approval.” Anakin was shocked.

“Master, thank-you so much! This means so mu-”

“Hush padawan, I know.” Obi-Wan gave him a warm smile that permeated throughout the room. “ _ But _ this comes with conditions.  _ Neither  _ of you will go off on any unsanctioned Sabacc benders, nor will you argue with me when we are at an establishment. My word is law, if I say leave, we leave. If I say drop on all fours and act like a nerf, you damn better do so. I will only say things once, and what I do say will be for your own safety.” Looking directly at Anakin he fondly deadpanned, “Padawan please note this is your  _ only  _ option. I will put bars on your windows and motion alarms in your room if that is what’s necessary to keep you safe.” Anakin sheepishly sensed the sheer honesty of the statement. Turning to Asajj he stated with a smile, “Asajj, I understand that I am not your Jedi Master, and I do not wish to impose my tyranny upon you, Anakin deals with it enough. I just ask you to please consider this as a safe alternative. You will be able to take greater risks at the table knowing you have me here for support and protection. Additionally, I will guarantee that you will have a safe place to stay --that is if you don’t accept my later offer-- as I will give you money out of my own stipend if you fail to earn the amount you require when limited to only monthly excursions.” Asajj looked incredibly touched, and Anakin wanted to cry. Obi-Wan was just so  _ good _ . Looking at them both Obi-Wan finished, “Am I clear? Does this seem reasonable?”

Asajj beat Anakin to the response, “I would be honored to have you accompany me Sir. This is an incredibly generous offer, and I promise to abide by your terms.” --Anakin was pleasantly surprised, but upon thinking further he realized it wasn’t all that surprising. It made sense that she would agree to stability, Asajj Ventress had never had stability in any life he’d known her in. She had simply done what was necessary to survive. This opportunity gave her the ability to build herself up without having to watch her back at every move, it would have been a beacon of hope for the teenager.-- Asajj continued, “You mentioned another offer Sir, what did you mean by that?”

“Ah, yes. You are a Jedi, the Force practically screams it so. I would like to give you an open offer that you can choose to accept at any time, now, or in a decade. I am willing to help you rejoin the Order. You can even accompany Anakin and I back tonight if that is what you wish. I can take you to the Council, and we can begin the process of your reinstatement immediately.” 

Asajj looked puzzled, “But Master Kenobi, I’m a darksider, not a Jedi. Wouldn’t the Jedi just lock me up?”

“Are you young one? Truly? Your signature feels very Grey, it actually reminds me a great deal of my own Master’s signature. The Force is not simply Light and Dark, only a Sith deals in these absolutes. As long as one is capable of embodying the Jedi way, one can be a Jedi. So that is the question, do you wish to do so? Or do you see yourself on another path? There are many admirable journeys one can take in life, a Jedi is just one of these.” Anakin’s jaw dropped, since when was Obi-Wan so  _ understanding _ . His Master had a depth of knowledge of the Force that Anakin wasn’t sure he’d achieved in  _ two _ lifetimes, and Obi-Wan was so earnest about it too. He  _ wanted  _ to help.

Asajj looked immensely pensive, but she eventually stated, “I think-. I think I need time. I don’t think that right now that is a path I can take, but paths converge and turns exist. I appreciate everything you have done for me tonight, both of you. I think I’m going to meditate on my thoughts.” She politely retreated to the second floor of the home base. In the past year she had turned the upstairs into an apartment of sorts living there the majority of the time. Anakin was happy for his friend, but also concerned --He was worried that Obi-Wan had broken her, his Master had that effect; she hadn’t sworn at or insulted Anakin  _ once  _ throughout the entire exchange. And she was being polite?-- He vowed to comm her tomorrow to make sure she wasn't in shock.

“Master, thank-you for everything. You’re the best.” Anakin hugged his Master again, this time not fully slipping from the embrace. They sat there, side by side, arms around each other's shoulders, content.

“Padawan, we aren’t finished yet.” Anakin’s stomach dropped. Was it all just a facade for Asajj’s sake, was Obi-Wan going to yell at him and tell the Council on him. Was he going to be kicked out of the order, was he going to fail to stop Sidious. Thoughts racing, he felt a cool calming sensation across their bond, “Anakin breathe, everything is going to be okay. I did not intend to worry you, and I apologize for causing you distress. What I meant to say is we still need to discuss your mother. Did you manage to acquire enough funds for her freedom?”

Anakin felt a ray of hope. Could it be? Was Obi-Wan truly going to help him? “Yes Master, and enough to free some others as well.” Anakin needed to be careful. Obi-Wan couldn’t find out exactly how much he had earned or he wouldn’t be able to use it to defeat the Sith. Sparing a few hundred thousand credits to free some slaves, however, was something Anakin was absolutely in favor of.

“Perfect, Anakin I’m sorry. I’d like to sincerely apologize for my delayed reaction to this endeavor. It is appalling that I did not petition the council to have her freed immediately, and I wish to remediate this atrocity. I only hope you can forgive me in time.” Obi-Wan spoke with sincerity that broke Anakin’s heart.

“With all due respect Master, that’s a load of nerf-nuggets. You are in no way responsible for any of this, and I am incredibly grateful that you are taking the time to help me. It means...more than anything to me.” Anakin’s eyes were starting to water. He quickly turned his face into Obi-Wan’s robes so his Master wouldn’t see his tears. It was futile.

“Oh Padawan, don’t cry yet. We haven’t even gotten to your punishment.” Anakin’s spine stiffened, kark. “Six months archives duty and a full research paper on each and every Sabacc institution you wish to go to for our  _ excursions. _ ” Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, his Master was smiling down at him with a mischievous glint in his eye. Anakin couldn’t even be mad at the man, and his tears quickly turned into laughs. “Now, how quickly do you think you can pull together your winnings, and what ship should I check out. I know you have a preference, and no before you ask my very young Padawan, you are  _ NOT  _ flying. I got enough of a dose of Anakin Skywalker flying for a year, maybe even two with that stunt you pulled today.”

“We’re going to Tatooine? Like now, right now, Tatooine?”

“Yes Padawan, right now.”

“But what about the council? We could get in trouble! I don’t want to do that to you.”

“On the contrary Padawan, I am the adult here, acting on my own agency. Any blame I shall shoulder as such.”

Anakin, for one of the first times in his lives, was truly speechless. It seemed that in every lifetime he would underestimate the devotion Obi-Wan Kenobi held towards him. He knew it was nowhere near his own adoration towards his Master, but it still made him feel supported and  _ heard _ . It was intoxicating. Obi-Wan was just so, Obi-Wan. It was simply incomprehensible that he had ever fallen so far as to take the life of his Master --The man was the epitome of all things good and fair in the galaxy.


	26. Return to the Dustball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so like I feel sorry for taking forever to update, I'm aware that I suck!! I'm posting two chapters today. There's technically a third that could go either in this arc or the next one, it's still pretty unpolished though, so I'm just gonna yeet it into the next one bc I really wanted to get stuff posted rather than sitting on it longer. As always, I love any feedback, and love all of you for reading this. It blows my mind that this fic has over 500 kudos on it, I never in a million years thought that would happen. Also, should I start posting chapters one at a time? It would definitely involve more cliffhangers, which I try to avoid, but like there would be more frequent updates. If anyone has an opinion plz lmk! :)

Overwhelming. All-Encompassing. Radiative.

Language was never able to articulate the extent of the heat on Tatooine. Stepping out of the ship it hit Anakin like a wildfire, dangerous and untamable. It permeated into his bones and etched into his very heart, the blazing waves matching its beat. Every planet leaves its own mark on the Force, and Tatooine's was cruel and unforgiving; it was inseparably entwined with the power of the binary suns, and it knew his soul. 

Anakin was struck with a bitter sadness, this planet was so important to his history, even his Master’s history, though the man would never know it. Obi-Wan would not know exile, Shmi would not know torture, and the galaxy would not know tyranny.  _ This _ Anakin did know. 

“You surely are quiet, I thought you’d be excited to free your mother.” 

“Sorry master, I am excited. Grateful too! It just feels really weird to be back.” He replied with a grain of honesty, and snapped out of his solemn stupor. Here and now. He needed to focus and not dwell on temporal possibilities that he refused to let come to pass. Plus, today was a wonderful day. His mother would be free. Truly free, not tied down by a husband who failed to protect her when she needed him most. Free from the dustball itself if Anakin had any say in the matter.

The Sith forsaken sand bit at their faces as Anakin traversed through the windy alleys of Mos Espa, leading the way with his gait. Anakin was already starting to get a headache from the heat, a minor annoyance. He felt bad for his more fair-skinned Master who was visibly reddening in the harsh radiation. Momentarily pausing his single minded march towards Watto’s, he turned to his Master.

“Here Master, we need to stop in this shop.” He gestured to a seedy apothecary covered by an assortment of colorful tarps. Its sign boasted medicinal remedies and Core World goods.

Obi-Wan looked confused. “Whatever for Anakin?” He said with a furrowed brow.

“You need protectant or you won’t be able to make the trip back to the ship, the suns are only going to get worse, there’s hours before high noon.” Obi-Wan looked like he was about to protest this statement, so Anakin continued. “Plus, I really want to get my mom a present.” He added making his eyes as big as possible, Asajj had called this his ‘Porg Face’ and told him that ‘no one that dangerous at Sabacc had any right to look that adorable’. Obi-Wan’s reluctant face immediately melted into one of compassion, Anakin had won. Unsurprising. He hadn’t really planned on getting his mother anything, but he decided it would be nice. His mother deserved it. 

“Very well my young apprentice, but I must insist that we only procure this protectant if it is priced reasonably, I won’t waste your precious funds otherwise; there are lives at stake.” He stated reasonably.

“Don’t worry Master, just please let me do the talking, you have a Core Accent --they’ll charge you more.”

“Very well.”

The air in the shop was much cooler than the streets, but it was still starkly dry. Obi-Wan looked relieved. He was trying to hide how exhausted the atmosphere had made him, but Anakin knew his tics --he could tell the man was in desperate need of a break. The worker at the apothecary was a small girl. Her unkempt hair clung to her hollow face, and the darkened rings around her eyes told a haunting tale. She couldn't have been older than seven, and was undoubtedly a slave. Anakin’s heart ached for her. He hoped she had a family. Family was the only solace in a life of servitude, it made the unbearable approachable, and it gave hope to the broken. 

“I need sun protectant, water, and something nice from offworld. Not something your Master wants you to sell, something you actually think a woman would enjoy --it’s for my mother.” He paused, then looked at her directly, “What do you recommend?” He spoke simply; in Huttese with a slave’s dialect. The girl’s eyes widened in awe, he knew that she knew. She looked up at him in quiet contemplation. He doubted that she had ever seen someone like herself gain freedom. 

She had paused momentarily, as if words were snatched by her throat. Eventually, however, she snapped out of it, “Your pale friend needs the strongest cream we have, and I’m not just saying that to make Master money, Master is a sleemo. I’ll get you your water. And I think your mom would like one of the credit purses made in the Stewjoni system; they are very pretty, and they have two locks to prevent stealing.” She said everything politely, but with an undercurrent of spark. She may have been a slave, but she had yet to have the fight beat out of her. Anakin’s presence had subtly ignited something, an additional reservoir of spirit within her frail frame.

He looked at the purses in question, they were striking. A mixture of the colors of life; blues and greens swirled together in iridescent patterns of faraway oceans with waves crashing out of the fabric. It was perfect, and it was fitting. His Master was from the Stewjoni system, and it was due to his kindness that Anakin was able to free his mother at all. Gazing over at Obi-Wan he smiled, the man’s attention was elsewhere, he was reading the only local paper that was printed in Basic. Anakin laughed quietly to himself at the sight, some things never changed.

“The purse is perfect, thank-you.” He said to the youth, then handed her a handful of peggats to pay for the lot. “What is your name?”

“Ancilla.” 

“Do you have any family here Ancilla?”

“My little sister and I are both owned by a Dug, he’s not a bad Master, but he wants her to work, and she’s only three. She doesn’t know how, so I have to work more. Our parents were killed by the Hutts when she was a baby, they owed money.” Anakin felt a stab of pain at this declaration. A child was working as a laborer and a mother, a child whose parents had been ripped from her at too young of an age. No child should have to go through this. Even the Jedi, drafted at birth, had childhoods. They had crechemates and games and laughter and play. His heart had already decided what to do even if it wasn’t part of his original plan. Opening his bag, he quickly handed her a sizable lump of currency.

“Take these and get far away from here. Give your sister and yourself a better life. Don’t look back.” She looked at him in shock, and he turned away in pain. Those were the extra credits he had planned to give his mother to support her new life. He didn’t regret his decision however, because he knew his mother would have done the same. His Master, oblivious to the entire interaction, was actively  _ glaring _ at his paper as he approached. “Master, I have what we need, we should hurry to Watto’s, I sense a storm coming.” Obi-Wan looked up from his paper, expression still aggressively hardened, as if the journalists had personally attacked his soul.

“Anakin the Hutt influence here is utterly revolting, I had no idea the Outer Rim was this lawless. It’s demoralizing.” His Master scoffed heatedly as they took their exit. Anakin just smirked, though Obi-Wan was easily one of the most well-read of the Jedi, he was still sheltered from much of the tyranny in the galaxy. The Order had stagnated. They focused almost entirely on petty Core squabbles and superfluous diplomacy while others were enslaved and starving. It angered Anakin. It also put things in perspective; if the whole Order could see what Obi-Wan was seeing now, would they truly maintain their status quo?

“Don’t say that out loud! You never know who’s listening on Tatooine.” He commanded sharply. Obi-Wan looked like he had been slapped. Anakin then realized his tone had been quite authoritative; he had essentially ordered his Master to shut up. Shockingly, however, Obi-Wan seemed to accept this without commenting on his insolence.

“Thank-you for your call to caution, I will heed your warning young one.” He replied thoughtfully as they left the building.


	27. Shmi

Watto’s shop loomed in his sight. Anakin’s heart started to beat heavily as if weighed down by the physical manifestation of his past failures. This was the first drastic deviation from his original timeline. He would no longer have nightmares about his mother’s broken body, lifeless and limp in his arms. He was permanently changing her fate for the better. Adrenaline pumped through his body as they reached the threshold. Obi-Wan grabbed his arm to ground him. He had probably sensed the anxiety through their bond.

“Anakin, your hard work and compassionate soul has brought you to this day. I am very proud of you. I have the utmost faith in you to carry your plan through to the end, and am giving you permission to take the lead on this endeavour. If you need me at all, I will be by your side. You need only ask.” Anakin was confounded. In his other existence, his Master would have never given him this much control over a situation. He was overbearing, and overly critical of Anakin’s flaws. Apparently all it took to get his Master’s approval was two decades of evil training to mellow Anakin’s fiery disposition. He squashed his sarcastic subconscious, this was a good thing, he didn’t need to be cynical. Though he could tell they were nowhere near equals in Obi-Wan’s eyes, Anakin had shifted from being seen as an liability to that of an asset. 

“Thank-you Master. I won’t let you down, I promise.” 

“Now let’s go free your mother! Force knows we’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

Entering the shop was like seeing a purposefully repressed memory spontaneously released from carbonite. It hit him all at once, and was not at all pleasant. The store itself had left bruises on his psyche, and returning to it was like getting punched on those scars. Anakin had not passed its threshold in  _ two _ lifetimes, yet he would never forget his life as a slave. It had both humbled and angered him. He learned much from his time in servitude, but would not wish those lessons upon anyone, except for maybe Sidious...the bastard. He scanned the shop looking for any sight of his mother. He was taller now, up to his Master’s shoulder, he could easily see over the counters he once had to climb upon. 

“How can I help you.” A soft melodic voice whispered from the adjacent room. Shmi Skywalker walked in briskly, and then looked up from her inventory pad. “ANI! Oh my goodness my little boy, is it truly you?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, Mom, it’s me.” Anakin said, his voice cracking, he was at loss for further words. His mother immediately engulfed him in a hug. It was the greatest hug of his life, he thought, as he squeezed her even tighter. They were both openly crying, and he didn’t even feel embarrassed for expressing emotions around his Master. The moment was too pure to be tainted by Jedi behavioural standards.

“Ani, oh Ani. I’ve missed you so much. And look at you.” She said putting her hands on his shoulders, “You’ve gotten so tall, and strong! You look like a real Jedi --I can't believe it's been four years.” At this Anakin broke into another sob, it hadn’t been four years, it had been  _ decades _ . And his last memory of her hadn’t been of his departure with Qui-Gon Jinn, it had been of her broken corpse.

“Mom, I missed you so much.” Anakin said, trying to pull himself together, but failing miserably.

Shmi collected herself faster, a lifetime of slavery gave one that ability. “My little Anakin, I promise you, I have missed you more. Now, what brings you back here? Are you in danger? And stop being rude Anakin Skywalker, introduce me to the polite friend that you’ve brought.” Anakin laughed at this final statement.

“Mom, this is my Jedi Master, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. He has been my mentor all of these years, and has taught me all that I know of the Jedi ways.” This wasn’t a lie, even the stuff Obi-Wan hadn’t taught him yet Obi-Wan had technically taught him.

“It is an Honor to meet you Lady Skywalker, Anakin has spoken highly of you. Your son loves you very much.” Obi-Wan stated kindly. Anakin was surprised that he had acknowledged his apprentice’s blatant attachment so casually.

“Knight Kenobi, we have no need for titles like that on Tatooine, I am simply a mother and a slave. Call me Shmi.” She smiled, Anakin could already tell that she liked Obi-Wan.

“My lady, anyone who can raise Anakin deserves a title, and at least a small star system.” He joked, “But if we are disregarding propriety please call me Obi-Wan, you too Anakin --no one should be called Master on this planet, the word weighs too heavily on your pasts.” He looked at them both kindly. Anakin could tell he was really nervous, he always resorted to banter when he was. He wondered why; his Master had nothing to worry about.

“I would say that you deserve a knighthood for putting up with my Ani, but it appears you’ve already achieved that Obi-Wan.” Shmi, quipped right back, “Is he behaving, I hope he isn’t giving you too much trouble --I know he can be quite the handful.”

“Anakin and I have our disagreements at times, but he is a wonderful apprentice. He was a gift to my life when I was at my lowest point, and I cherish the time I have spent with him. That is, except for when he leaves droid carcasses all over our living quarters.” Obi-Wan’s words made warmth spread through Anakin. He was with people he loved, and he was content. He basked in the validation he had received from his Master, he had always known his mother cared for him unconditionally, but hearing such kind words from Obi-Wan was heartwarming. He had spent decades hating the man, but this new life had changed everything. 

“I’m glad to hear it, I was worried for him. I know how strong you are Ani,” she said turning to Anakin, “but I didn’t know if you were adjusting to your new life with the Jedi. I see now that you are in good hands,” She said looking at Obi-Wan, “and that makes me so happy.” she paused, then placed her hands on her hips, “Now, boys. What are you doing in the slums of the Outer Rim? Hopefully something that allows you to stay for dinner.” it was a warm admonishment.

“Actually mom, the Jedi don’t know we are here. We’re here--, Well, we’re here to free you. I’ve been saving up peggats, and I have them here.” He gestured to the contents of his bag. 

Shmi froze in shock, her legs giving out as she sunk to the floor. Her hands clutched the Japor carving she always kept on her neck --it was a bold symbol of the Tatooine gods of perseverance and fortune. Anakin crouched down with her, engulfing her in another hug. “You’ll be free mom, it’s real. This is happening.”

Obi-Wan stood near them and put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder in support. Anakin didn’t want to move. “Obi-Wan, would you do the talking. You’re better at negotiation, and I don’t want to leave my mother.” 

“Of course Anakin, I would be honored.” Anakin passed the bag of credits to his Master.

“Watto’s office is at the back of the shop, look for a silver shed, you’ll find him there.” His Master gave him a nod, pushing reassurance and serenity through the bond as he left the room. Anakin felt calmer.

“Ani, I can’t believe this, it feels like a dream. I never dared to hope that I would be free one day, I just prayed to the gods nightly that you would be happy and safe.” She sobbed in disbelief.

“Shh, shh, mom it’s alright. I would never leave you here, you deserve the galaxy.” A phantom pain carved into his chest, that was a lie. He _had_ left her there to rot, to _die._ He was too blinded in his first life to see what was right in front of him, his mother’s happiness, his mother’s _life_. He stopped dwelling however, though he could never undo his tyranny, he could make sure it never graced the galaxy again. He had done good in this life, he thought, looking down at his mother’s thin frame. She would be free, and her pain would be over.

“I hope you haven’t gotten yourself in trouble coming to save me. Why don’t the Jedi know you’re here? Would they not allow this? Is this not coming out of your own salary?” She questioned fairly. Anakin panicked. Decades of Republic and Imperial interrogation training held no candle to a mother’s intuition, he worried she would see right through his half-truths. 

“Actually...I won the money doing something the Jedi Council wouldn’t approve of.” Shmi gave him a powerful side eye, still glistening with tears, “But I promise Master Obi-Wan approves. It was his idea. I was planning on waiting to free you until I was old enough to check out a ship and sneak out.” Anakin squeaked rather than spoke, he cursed his vocal chords for cracking so much lately. 

“Well, I’m glad you have someone on your side, and I can’t complain about being freed. I just hope you boys thought this through. I especially hope you’re not condemning your poor Mentor to a bantha’s butt of trouble. I’d hate to be the reason for that.”

“Don’t worry mom, I’ll find a way to take the fall if we get in trouble, Obi-Wan doesn’t deserve it.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that Ani, but you’d better. He is doing this out of the sheer kindness of his heart. To him I am just another slave on another unnamed planet. He would never be here if it weren’t for you. You must mean a lot to him Ani, he is very loyal to you.” 

“He and his own Master, Qui-Gon --the one you met-- had a really rocky relationship. Then Qui-Gon died, and he had no real closure. I was essentially dumped onto him while he was young and grieving. I still don’t think that he feels he is qualified to train me, but he is. He’s a really good mentor, especially for me. I don’t even want to know what my life would be like if some other Jedi were my Master; most of them are so cold. Obi-Wan is different, he cares about me.” These statements were all true, at one point. And they were still true, from a certain perspective. Anakin would have left the Jedi had he not been placed with Obi-Wan; the future would have been too unpredictable, and him being a Jedi wouldn’t have been worth it. He would have done more good from the shadows. Obi-Wan re-entered the room, effectively cutting off their conversation. Anakin didn’t know if he was grateful or disappointed by the interruption. His gratitude quickly outweighed his disappointment, however, when he saw the small slave transmitter in his Master’s hand.

“Shmi, you are free. The chip is not deactivated yet, however, because I wanted you to have the honor if you so chose.” Shmi looked elated, but then looked over to Anakin.

“My son will do it, for it is he I have to thank for my freedom.” She beamed at Anakin, eyes glistening.

Anakin was speechless as his Master handed him the transmitter. It enraged him that such a small stupid piece of junk had so much power over his mother’s existence. He  _ gladly  _ flipped the switch to disengage her slave chip. He couldn’t wait for it to be physically removed as well. “The second we finish celebrating your freedom, we’re going to a medic and getting your chip taken out” He stated confidently. Dropping the transmitter on the ground, he crushed it with his foot, and then with the Force for good riddance. No one would ever be able to activate the karking thing again. Anakin smiled to himself.

“Thank-you Ani, I love you, and am so proud of you. Now, let’s get out of here. I will live a happy life if the gods allow me to never see this shop again. If we hurry, we can still beat the storm.”


End file.
